‘Oh no!’ He puts his head in his hands. ‘I must give her a call.’

‘Maybe it’s best not to.’

‘Maybe not,’ he agrees. ‘But give her my regards. She’s a great woman.’ He studies his feet. ‘But not quite as great as her big sister.’

I don’t know what to say.

‘I guess Edie spilled the beans?’

‘Yes,’ I say weakly. ‘It makes a change from her burning them.’

‘And there was me thinking you’d got the razor-sharp brain of a super sleuth.’

We both laugh. ‘No,’ I say. ‘When it comes to love, I seem to be extremely dim-witted.’

‘I have to ask this.’ Pip rakes his hair. ‘Would it have made any difference if you’d known how I felt any earlier?’

‘I don’t know,’ I admit. ‘If I hadn’t met Dean…’ I tail off pathetically.

‘One man too late.’ Pip looks pained. ‘I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. Particularly when it was me who suggested you do something radical. I didn’t think you’d go heading off to Nepal.’ He gives a short laugh. ‘I seem to have a knack of making inappropriate suggestions to women, which they then stupidly act on.’

‘I guess there are complications with Jake too,’ I suggest.

‘Ah, Jake.’ Pip sighs. ‘Didn’t the late great Elvis Presley sing about it—“The Girl of My Best Friend”? It must be a common phenomenon.’ Pip gives me a wry look. ‘Trust me to succumb to it. I wanted to make sure that you had every chance to go back to Jake if you wanted to. I now get the feeling that in doing so, I shot off my own bloody foot.’

‘I think you’re a really great bloke,’ I say.

‘With an appalling sense of timing.’ Neither of us can deny that.

I try to offer some consolation. ‘All my friends think you’re irresistible.’ And my sister, apparently.

‘But not you?’

‘I’ve never really thought about you…like that,’ I flounder.

‘I think that speaks volumes.’

I don’t really know what else I can say. ‘I could give you some phone numbers,’ I offer.

Pip laughs. ‘I’d rather make a bollocks of my own love-life, if you don’t mind.’

‘You’ve been fantastic. If things had been different…’

‘Who knows?’ He shrugs, throwing his hands in air.

‘I want us to stay friends. Good friends.’

‘Hey,’ Pip says. ‘If that’s what I have to settle for, then so be it.’

I stand up and fuss with my preparations to leave.

‘What do I do now? I don’t know whether to shake your hand or grab you and ravish you while I have the chance,’ he admits.

‘Somewhere in between, I think.’ I lick my lip nervously.

‘Just don’t do that licky-lip thing,’ he warns, ‘or I might not be responsible for my own actions.’