God! I still cringed now thinking about it. He’d nodded and agreed that it came in handy. Then, clearly thinking I was on a roll, I had proceeded to tell him just how good-looking I thought he was, affecting what I assumed was a sexy stance. Again, most likely not. In fact, definitely not, in that Jack Coulsdon-Hart’s response to this, after a moment of merely staring at me, was to pat me on the head! Yes. He actually patted me on the head, said thank you and disappeared like a spectre into the crowd. Having been rescued by my friends, who had stood watching the whole disastrous situation unfurl, I stumbled to a corner of the field.

‘I didn’t even warrant a “I can’t. You’re my best friend’s sister,”’ I’d wailed, downing yet more cocktails. ‘He just patted me on the head like a sodding puppy!’ We’d all watched silently when, half an hour later, Jack had left the fete with the prettiest girl in the village. He’d cast a glance towards us, then carried on out of my life. The whole regrettable night was topped off by me spending most of the early hours of the following morning alternating between hugging the toilet bowl and crying.

After that, I had made a point of avoiding Jack, a strategy that had worked exceptionally well. There had been, of course, the brief meetings when the children were christened due to us both being godparents but we’d both spent as little time as possible in each other’s company. I’d gone to the church and done my bit but, without Mike, I couldn’t face anything more. Thankfully, Felix and Poppy had understood. Or at least, had tried to, and I would always appreciate that. Jack had also made a point of attending both my parents’ funerals, despite living abroad. Apparently, he’d also come to Mike’s, which I’d thought was kind, but I still had little recollection of that particular day thanks to a mixture of shock, grief and Valium.

I’d put the moment of lust I’d felt for Jack at the fête out of my mind. Until now, of course. But the past was a long time ago. I doubt he even remembered anyway, and I was a grown woman, and a successful novelist. Jack Coulsdon-Hart held no sway for me now as the big handsome face stared out from my smart TV. But, bloody hell, did he really have to be so good-looking? Life really wasn’t fair sometimes.

‘Hey!’ Jack raised a slightly awkward hand at Felix’s decision to suddenly thrust him virtually into my living room. For a moment, I thought he looked as uncomfortable as I felt, but the moment passed and I was sure I’d imagined it. Poppy bounced next to her husband and waved happily. Jack’s smile was genuine and warm.

‘No kids tonight, or they in bed?’

‘Grandparents,’ Felix advised, ‘so we’re over at Lils’s place, stuffing takeaway and watching hideous movies.’

‘You’re watching them,’ Poppy corrected. ‘Lily and I are having in-depth and meaningful conversations.’