‘I’m not sure about that but, as far as this is concerned, I’m cooking anyway. The only thing it means is that there’s one less portion in the freezer, which is neither here nor there. You may as well eat it. It’s better than you having to cook when you come in late or eating a ready meal.’

‘I’d still feel better if you let me pay for my bed and board.’

‘Only if you let me pay for all the work you’re doing outside. Plus the shelf you put up in my study, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that the utility door isn’t creaking anymore. I find it hard to believe the garden shed painted itself either.’

‘The paint was there,’ said Jack.

‘Yes. The paint’s been there for the last two years. And now it’s actually on the shed, which is where it was supposed to be, saving me time if I were to do it myself, or money if I had to pay someone else to do it. Stop banging on about paying me rent. I think we’re even.’

‘I still think I’m getting the better deal, but I’m not going to win on this, am I?’

‘Nope,’ I said. ‘And I’m glad you finally realise that so that we can move on. Are you ready for dinner or are you going out?’

‘Nope. No plans.’

‘I was just going to dish mine up, but you can eat later if you like.’

‘I’m happy to eat with you if I’m not in your way.’

‘Of course not. Take a seat.’

‘Can I get us some drinks?’ Jack asked.

‘That would be good, thank you.’

He opened the fridge. ‘Champagne? Something to celebrate?’

‘Don’t you start.’ I gave him a brief smile as I put the two plates down on the table.

‘That sounds like a story,’ he replied, returning the smile with a fuller one of his own.

I glanced up at him, my eyes shifting to the champagne and then back again.

‘Oh, sod it, why not? Don’t open that one, though. There’s a nicer one in the cooler underneath.’ I pulled two champagne flutes from the cupboard and set them on the table as he pulled out a bottle of Veuve Clicquot from the cooler, opening it like an expert and pouring the golden fizzing liquid into the two glasses.

I picked up my fork to begin eating, before noticing that Jack was holding up his glass. I returned my fork to the table, and I picked up my own glass.

‘It seems someone does have something to celebrate, then?’

‘There’s always something to celebrate if you look hard enough.’

I wiggled my head in a maybe yes, maybe no kind of fashion.

Jack looked at me patiently. ‘Right now, I’d like to make a toast to you.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. You. For opening your home to me and making what could have been a very difficult transition so much easier. Especially when I know you could probably have brained Felix for making the offer on your behalf.’