‘Always has been,’ agreed Joyce, ‘but before you came, he’d deliver the milk and see to the heavy jobs around the farm, whereas now he works with us cheek by jowl, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed – his mam passed comment on it the other day.’

Roz blushed to her ears. She had met Bernie’s parents, Helen and Arthur, a couple of days after she had moved into Hollybank Farm, and even she had to admit that it was obvious from the way they greeted her that Bernie had been singing her praises. She cast her mind back to that first meeting.

They had finished their work for the day and were heading back to the cottage when a voice hailed them from behind. Turning, Roz was greeted by a rather stout woman with black hair and a rosy complexion, and a man who was a shorter, older version of Bernie.

Stopping, Joyce introduced Bernie’s parents to Roz.

‘Sorry we weren’t here to greet you,’ said Helen, ‘but our Bernie assures us you’re being well taken care of.’

It had been all Joyce could do to stop herself from giggling. The approving looks from Helen and the broad grin of her husband had made it obvious that Bernie had told them all about Roz, and he had obviously spoken highly of her, giving his parents a very good impression indeed.

Now, Roz eyed her friend through suspicious eyes. ‘What do you mean, his mam passed comment?’

‘Said that since he’d started working with us, he wasn’t a miserable so-and-so in the mornings any more.’ She grinned. ‘I got the impression she put that down to you.’

‘Maybe,’ said Roz, trying to appear nonchalant, ‘or maybe he’s discovered he prefers working with people who aren’t drooling all over him.’

‘Oh-ho! Do I detect an air of envy?’

‘Not at all!’ scoffed Roz. ‘Besides, if what you’re saying is true, what have I to be envious of?’

‘The fact that you can’t drool over him, because you’re spoken for?’ Joyce suggested.

‘I,’ said Roz loftily, ‘wouldn’t drool over him whether spoken for or not! It’s unseemly.’

‘Get you!’ laughed Joyce, but to Roz’s annoyance she added, ‘I’d believe you, only I’ve caught you watching him …’ She waved Roz into silence as she started to protest. ‘I’m not saying you were drooling, but don’t pretend you don’t fancy the pants off him, because I shan’t believe you.’

Roz puffed out her chest to protest, then thought better of it. What was the point? She did fancy him, very much so, but was that such a bad thing? She glanced shyly at Joyce. ‘Do you think it’s wrong of me?’