Pulling closed the heavy curtains and adjusting my voluminous dressing gown, I plonked down on the sofa, thumping some scatter cushions into submission behind me, whilst wondering whether to do some more work, or watch Bake Off on catch-up.

I smiled to myself, sinking further into the sofa and closing my eyes as I reflected on what had been a rather lovely Saturday afternoon spent strolling through Leigh Woods with Anthony, late-lunching in Ashton Court and then making our way home across the Downs in warm sunshine. It had been the kind of loosely scheduled day I had rarely enjoyed since Jason and I had—

I was grateful to be rescued from the thought by Anthony who at that moment appeared at my feet, tail swishing furiously from side-to-side, like a windscreen wiper in a monsoon.

‘OK, then,’ I said, bending down and picking him up, ‘but just make sure you’re facing the telly.’ I placed him on my lap and after three stumbling rotations, he settled – with a sad inevitability – facing me, his panting breaths wafting up at me in wave after stinky wave.

I tilted my head upwards in search of fresher air, and stroked his head, waiting for it to droop onto his outstretched paws. ‘Good boy,’ I said softly, focusing on the ceiling and gently rubbing a forefinger between his small, grey ears.

He was asleep within minutes and, realising that I had left my laptop beyond reach on my bed upstairs, I leaned cautiously to my left, stretching to retrieve the TV remote from the arm of the sofa, whilst taking great care not to wake Anthony.

It was about an hour later and Paul Hollywood – arms folded, legs akimbo – had just finished insulting some poor bloke’s rough puff, when I heard Giles’s key in the lock. Anthony heard it too and was off my lap and whimpering with excitement in the hallway before the front door had clicked shut.

Turning off the TV, I hauled myself to my feet and followed the little dog into the hallway. There I found Giles on his knees and ruffling Anthony’s head, whilst the latter repeatedly licked his face.

‘Well, if you think I’m kissing you hello after he’s had first dibs, you’ve got another thing coming,’ I said.

Giles looked up, his grin broad, his pale blue eyes wide with fun and his round face slightly pink. ‘Edie!’ he beamed, standing up and sweeping back the unruly blonde hair that had fallen across his eyes. ‘And aren’t you the very vision of loveliness in your – or should I say my – dressing gown?’

I looked down at the blue and green tartan robe. ‘Forgot mine,’ I said simply.

‘Not a problem,’ he replied. ‘You look ten times better in it than I do. Keep it, if you like.’