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With the takeaway eaten, Horse and I are washing up while Lara sits at the table drawing with Willow.

‘Are you okay?’ Horse asks, once again surprising me.

‘Yes; what makes you ask that?’

‘You just seem quiet this evening. Well – thoughtful.’

I realize I can’t remember the last time someone asked if I was okay, just by reading me. I suppose it was Paddy. He would know if I had things on my mind, as Horse clearly does. I find it . . . intimate. And I know I shouldn’t be thinking like that.

‘Oh, y’know. Things to think about. And . . . I loved watching Willow eat like he did this evening. Thank you for that.’

‘No problem. He always loved the curries that Ayesha cooked.’

He washes and I dry, side by side, enjoying the relaxed ease that there is between us.

‘No Gareth this evening?’ he asks.

I shake my head.

‘He’s on a golf tour. Left early this morning. Four nights in Portugal with some old friends. They play golf, have dinner afterwards, and lots of drinks.’

‘Ah,’ he says. ‘Not your thing?’

‘No, not my thing.’ I shake my head and laugh. ‘Especially not with Gareth. He’s just a friend,’ I add, finding myself keen to clarify the relationship. ‘He was Paddy’s friend. And then, after Paddy died, he seemed to feel this need to check on me, keep an eye. Not that I need it.’

‘No,’ Horse laughs. ‘I can see that.’

‘But it’s hard to tell Gareth that. He’s on his own . . . I think he’ll get the message once I move into the new place. There won’t be room for him to come and hang out like there is here.’

‘That’s good to hear.’ I hand him a wet, soapy plate, and he dries it and puts it on the work surface.

‘It’s me that’s made things more complicated,’ I find myself saying. I’m not sure why I want to share my thoughts with this man I’ve only just met, but it feels as if he’s totally on my side. It’s like I’ve known him forever. I expect that’s the Willow effect; he’s bringing us all together.

‘How so?’

Somehow, in the orange glow of the lamps in the kitchen – standing in because the main overhead socket has cracked and I have no idea how to reach up there, let alone replace it – I feel completely at ease talking to him.

‘I’ve got a buyer, a cash buyer, for the farm.’

‘Well, that’s good,’ he says, turning to the table and topping up my wine glass, then handing it to me.

‘And I’ve got a place I want to move to.’

‘That’s good, too.’

‘Are you having another beer?’ I ask.

He shakes his head.

‘I’ve got the bike. Just the one is enough. So, it sounds as if everything’s going to plan with the new place?’

‘Well, it was. Is. Oh, I don’t know. It’s Willow . . . I’m just . . .’ And I hear myself saying what’s been on my mind. ‘I’m not sure that it’s the right place any more. Not for right now.’

‘Ah,’ he says in his low, soothing voice.

‘It’s a flat,’ I carry on. ‘Lovely views and walks for me and Tegan. Perfect.’

‘But not for Willow,’ he says, taking another soapy plate.