He leaves for Auckland tomorrow, with Penny; he is taking her back with him for her first ever New Zealand Christmas. She is thrilled at the thought of sunshine and warm sand between her toes. She lives in Glasgow, after all.

We are having Bobby to stay for the duration of their trip. Or rather, Jules and I are; we have figured out a walking schedule. As I don’t finish at Flaxico until Christmas, Jules will take him during the day. Izzy is delighted.

Then, in mid-January, Nick and Penny will come back, because he is moving home. Where will it lead? I have no idea. But right now my heart feels as light as candy floss as I answer the door.

I study Nick’s lovely face for a moment, wanting to kiss him. And then I do, on the lips. I’d anticipated a quick peck but it’s much, much more. My head spins as his arms wind around my waist. We are kissing, here on my doorstep, where anyone could walk by and see. Chrissie or Tim might arrive home with groceries, or their Christmas tree – I think they planned to fetch theirs today. Or Izzy could wander through and see us. But, for those minutes everything else melts away as we kiss, and it just feels so right.

We pull apart and he smiles. ‘Well, is she ready?’ he asks.

‘Just about,’ I say. ‘She’s very excited.’ I run a hand over my hair and turn to the stairs, still feeling his kiss on my lips. ‘Izzy?’ I call out. ‘Nick’s here!’

‘I’ll get set up straight away then,’ he says as we step inside.

So here we go.

Izzy Cooks! – Episode One

‘Welcome,’ my daughter says, ‘to a new episode of Izzy Cooks!’ She beams at Nick, who’s behind the camera, and at me. I keep glancing at him; I can’t help it.

‘Mum, are you watching?’ Izzy says.

‘Yes! Yes, of course I’m watching, love.’

Her gaze meets mine, and there’s a flicker of what can only be her first eye-roll. Surely, those adolescent hormones aren’t kicking in at eight years old?

‘So, today,’ she says, quickly regaining her focus, ‘we are cracking the eggs into this bowl here. You can use three but for a really big one I like to use four eggs.’

She cracks them deftly into the glass dish. Nick catches my eye and we smile.

‘And now we beat them lightly, not too much. You want them just mixed really, not frothy.’ She grins. ‘We already have our grated cheese here. Just ordinary, basic cheese.’ I look at Nick again, who looks terribly handsome in his white T-shirt, freshly shaved. He has the sort of face you want to touch. I never thought I would ever want to do that again – touch a man’s face, I mean, in that way.