‘It’s delicious is what it is,’ he said, taking another large forkful. ‘And no, you didn’t give me that impression. It’s just that it’s not exactly a secret you like your privacy. You’re a little bit of a mystery around here, aren’t you?’

‘Am I?’

‘The reclusive writer who lives up at the big house? Oh, yeah.’ He loaded salad and a couple of slices of garlic bread onto his plate.

‘Oh God.’

Jack shook his head gently as he finished his mouthful. ‘Don’t worry about it. People are always looking for something to talk about.’

‘I know. I’d just rather it wasn’t me.’

‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t think.’

‘It’s all right,’ I said, letting out a sigh. ‘But let’s talk about something more interesting.’

‘You are interesting.’

‘Hmm. How did you get on today?’

Jack proceeded to tell me how well the meetings had gone. He’d even squeezed in an extra one and already had three clients on the books, and through the village grapevine had another two meetings lined up next week.

‘That’s great!’ I said, genuinely thrilled for him.

‘Thanks. I’m really pleased too. I knew it was a risk coming back here and trying to start again. I had a decent amount of clients before but I can’t expect them all to need my services.’

‘I’m sure there are plenty of new people here since you moved away. And there seems to be much more of an interest in gardens and gardening and outdoor spaces in general these days. I have a good feeling about it.’

‘Is that so?’ he said, leaning back in his chair.

‘It is. Now, are you ready for pudding?’

‘I’m not sure I have room,’ he said, patting his stomach and laughing.

‘Nonsense, of course you do. You have to make up for barely eating the last day or so. There’s never much to those airline meals, certainly not for someone of your size. Besides, if you’re going to be working in this garden, plus the work you’re already building up, you’re going to need the energy. You can always say no, of course,’ I said putting the plate of steaming sticky toffee pudding and custard in the centre of the table, an innocent look on my face.

Jack looked up at me, the corner of his generous mouth tilting up one side. ‘Oh, yeah. I could always say no,’ he said and picked up a spoon.

The next morning, I wandered out into the garden, still slightly bleary-eyed, my hands curled around a cup of herbal tea and my feet tucked into functional, but admittedly ugly, welly shoes. The good thing about living on your own is that you don’t have to worry about looking glamorous, or even normal. I turned the corner and walked slap-bang into a fast-moving Jack. He moved even faster backwards as he tore off the T-shirt which was currently soaking up the hot tea I’d just poured down it from his body.