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To my left, rows of wooden huts sold everything from candles to jewellery to ornaments that looked handmade but probably weren’t. People queued in thick lines, desperate to buy overpriced festive items they’d never use – but it was December, so logic had clearly packed up and left. Straight ahead, the Ferris wheel lit up the entire sky. A literal glowing deathtrap. And behind it, Edinburgh Castle loomed like it had been witnessing and judging these types of poor decisions for centuries.

‘Here you go.’ I felt a nudge on the arm and was relieved to see Jamie’s cheery face as he handed me a cup of mulled wine.

I sniffed it and pulled a face. ‘Wow, it’s very strong! Thanks but no thanks.’ I tried to give it back. He shook his head and started walking again.

‘Stop disappearing on me!’ I called. ‘I was lost there!’

Jamie snorted. ‘I was right there. Couldn’t miss you with those shades, Posh Spice.’ He turned back to me. ‘Right, where do you want to start? Ice skating?’

I lowered the glasses slowly, and he burst out laughing.

‘The stalls,’ I said. ‘I haven’t shopped in weeks.’ And I could feel Dad’s twenty burning a hole in my pocket. So together we wandered past the cute wooden stalls, pointing out the enormous cakes and stacked cookies on display.

‘Do you want one?’ Jamie asked.

I shook my head. ‘No, thanks.’

We kept walking until I spotted a bespoke Christmas bauble stand. I headed towards it, admiring the personalised decorations. I spotted one of a wee boy holding a dinosaur and immediately thought of Lucy’s kids.

‘They’re cute,’ I said, picking one up, then another. A wee boy holding a dinosaur. A wee girl in a tutu. My chest softened. ‘Can I have these two, please?’ I said to the man behind the stall, noting the sign – 2 for £20.

Jamie appeared beside me. ‘Who’s that for?’

‘Lucy Williams’ kids,’ I said, smiling despite myself. ‘I met them last night – they don’t have a tree, so they are hanging decorations. I thought I could at least add to them.’

The man behind the stall handed over a small paper bag. I paid, still grinning.

Jamie didn’t say anything. He just watched me.

‘Feel good?’ he asked eventually as we continued around the stalls.

I shrugged. ‘Yeah . . . I suppose.’

He smiled – like he knew I was downplaying it. I hated feeling like he could read my mind. But truthfully, I did feel good. It seemed silly, but I knew how much those baubles would mean to two wee kids who didn’t have a tree. I couldn’t wait to hand them over.

‘Right,’ he said suddenly, grabbing my wrist. ‘Churros. Come on.’ Before I could protest, I was being dragged to a stall that smelled like absolute heaven.

I leaned against the side, laughing as he queued excitedly. I’d never been to a Christmas market before. I’d been invited plenty of times, but Rupert never liked the idea – children running riot, people drinking, teenagers forcing vape smoke down your lungs. But this was actually quite nice. People wandered around wrapped up in hats and scarves, couples tucked into each other, families carrying bags of treats and trailing sticky-handed children. Now that I was inside it, it felt warm. Not the chaos I’d imagined or dreaded from the outside.

‘One churros with Nutella,’ Jamie said, appearing at my side again. He handed me the cone of fried dough and I laughed, swigged the last of my mulled wine and lobbed the cup in a bin.

‘See, you liked the wine – just try this,’ he said, pushing the cone towards me.

I mean, I’d had churros before, obviously. I just usually preferred food that came with a hygiene rating.

‘OK,’ I mumbled, dunking a churro into the Nutella and taking a bite. Wow. It was heaven. Deep-fried, sugary, cinnamon-warm heaven.

‘Good, eh?’ His eyes lit up as he took a bite of his own, throwing his head back dramatically.

I nodded, scranning another one like I was going to the electric chair within the hour. ‘These are incredible,’ I eventually managed, mouth full, all manners out the window.

We walked, eating, pointing out random landmarks, talking nonsense, until—

‘Ohhh. Here, you have sugar . . .’

His voice was suddenly closer than expected. I turned – and his fingers brushed my face, wiping something away.

My stomach flipped. What the fuck was going on? I wondered. Why did he make me so nervous? I had got my arsehole fingered behind a gym and had sex on a sofa with a William Wallace-wannabe and hadn’t felt a thing. Yet I suddenly turned static when Jamie wiped crumbs from my face.