Jack put the bags down and closed the door behind him. ‘It’s not the same, is it?’

‘No,’ I said turning to him. ‘It’s not. I don’t like it.’

‘Do you want me to go and get him now? You could have a bit more rest, if you like. I won’t be long.’

‘I can’t sleep the whole day away.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s a waste.’

Gently, Jack put his hands either side of my head and dipped his forehead to mine.

‘You’re allowed, Lily. You had a late night, and you did something that took a lot of courage and a lot of mental and physical energy, especially as you’re not used to it. You’re allowed to rest. It’s good for you. OK?’

I nodded my head against his and padded away towards the snug. He followed me and waited as I curled myself onto the sofa, whereupon he laid a blanket over me.

‘I’ll be back before long.’

‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’

‘Not at all. I miss him too. Now get some sleep,’ he said, giving me a smile before turning to the door.

‘Jack?’

He turned back and I sat up a little, which prompted him to come closer. I reached out and he quickly accepted the hug, wrapping his own arms around me.

‘What’s this for?’ he asked softly. ‘Not that I’m complaining, I hasten to add. Just curious.’

‘It’s for everything.’

That seemed enough explanation and he tightened the hug briefly before letting me go and tucking me back under the blanket.

‘We’ll be back soon.’

I heard the door click closed and a few minutes later the sound of the car starting and heading off up the driveway. The house suddenly felt overwhelmingly quiet. I’d never noticed that before, in fact I revelled in the peace and tranquilly. But now it felt like something was missing. I knew that something was Clive, but I had a feeling that Jack was becoming more and more a part of that something as well.

The next few weeks found Jack and I spending more and more time together, often using Clive as an excuse to take a walk. Dinners in the evening saw us sitting longer and longer, talking about the past, the future, and every subject in between. We’d often decamp from the dining table to the sofa, or the snug, and Clive would happily plod alongside us and once we were settled, lie down across our feet and begin snoring happily.

My writing was flowing, and I looked forward to the evenings when Jack would be home to share dinner and conversation. Felix and Poppy had been round several times, often bringing the children, who would clamber all over their godfather and play with the dog until they wore themselves out, at which point Poppy and I would go and tuck them up in the bedroom I had made into their own. Quite often, Poppy would try to catch my eye and make gestures towards Jack, but I would either pretend not to notice, or laughingly blank them. I wasn’t ready to be questioned, even with good intentions, about my relationship with Jack. I wasn’t entirely sure what it was, or where it was going, let alone ready to try to explain that to somebody else.