We then reconvened for takeaway pizza at the kitchen table. I’d suggested fish and chips, but Daniel wasn’t in the mood to take a detour to reach the New Side, which, as I pointed out, was all the more reason for building a new bridge to save everyone the bother.

By unspoken agreement, we didn’t talk about Charlie, instead moving on to lighter topics. Daniel told me more about growing up in a village, and honestly if anyone else had told me I’m not sure I’d have believed them. ‘English country dancing’ for PE? Cross-country that literally involved running, unsupervised, through the country, including a farm where the owner frequently brandished a gun at them? A self-appointed Ferring Sheriff who patrolled the Old Side, confiscating kids’ scooters and locking ‘stray’ cats in her shed?

Daniel was equally intrigued by growing up in a bed and breakfast. Especially the kind of weird and wonderful characters who frequented the Tufted Duck, including the Henderson-Browns, who religiously came and stayed for a fortnight every summer, complained about everything from the shape of the fried eggs to the shade of towels, accepted their annual five per cent discount as compensation and immediately rebooked for the following year.

‘This is the first time Hope’s stayed over at Mum’s for months,’ Daniel said, changing the subject once the pizza boxes were empty. ‘It’s a bit disconcerting, not listening out for the baby monitor.’

‘A wasted opportunity, then?’ I asked. ‘You could have got up to all sorts. Had a wild night out, got hammered, rolled in at irresponsible o’clock. You could have had a house party!’

He grimaced. ‘No thank you, to all of the above. What I’m most looking forward to is an undisturbed night and no squawking wake-up call in the morning. I’m going to stay in bed and enjoy a lazy Sunday morning by myself.’

‘Fair enough.’ I sat back, blowing gently on my coffee to cool it down while trying very hard not to imagine a Sunday morning in bed with Daniel. ‘Would you rather I left you to your solitude, then? Made myself scarce for the night?’

‘No.’ Daniel looked at me, steadily, and the air in the kitchen went completely still. Either that or my lungs had simply forgotten how to work, too distracted by the depths of potential in his gaze.

‘Okay,’ I managed to squeak, before immediately burying my head in my drink.

I was suddenly very aware that Daniel and I were alone in the farmhouse for the whole night. It was stupid. It wasn’t as though Hope chaperoned our behaviour the rest of the time. But without her, it felt… it felt like I was falling for this man. That if circumstances were different, I’d be hoping he’d suggest we go through to the living room, and he’d come and sit next to me on the sofa, and then, well… without any chance of an interruption…

Thankfully, before I could follow that train of thought any further, Daniel drained the last of his coffee and stood up, stretching.