I sigh. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine.’ I assure him in my best calming tone. ‘You’re good at your job.’ He really is. He has the confident – a bit too confident – attitude required of a sales person.

‘Yeah, I just wanted to make amends with you, though.’

That’s okay with me, as long as he doesn’t hit me with another “I want you back” speech. What was he thinking? ‘It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll see you about, okay?’

‘Yeah, we could do lunch again,’ he adds quickly. ‘As friends…of course, I still have these boxes with the last of your stuff.’

‘I’ll pick them up next week. Take care, Matt.’ I ignore his lunch suggestion.

‘You too,’

I hang up, tossing my phone onto my desk. As much as he’s a twat, I don’t wish unemployment on him. He’ll be fine. I put Matt out of my head and concentrate on getting some work done. I pretend not to check my phone every ten minutes to make sure it’s on and the volume is up. Why hasn’t he called?

I walk down our street after picking up a bottle of wine and see Kate in the distance, jumping around in the middle of the road like the red headed nutter that she is. As I near, I do a double take. Parked up next to Margo is another bright pink van, but this one’s brand spanking new. So, Kate’s finally invested in some new wheels. It’s about time.

‘Nice wheels.’ I say as I approach.

She spins around, her blue eyes dancing, her pale cheeks flushed. ‘Do you know anything about this?’

Me? ‘Why would I?’

‘I just got home and it was parked here. I admired it for a bit, walked through the front door and trod on the keys. Look.’ She thrusts the keys under my nose, prompting me to look at the note attached to a piece of string on the key ring.

‘No more bruised butts, please.’

No! He wouldn’t have, surely? I think back to his fierce reaction to my battered bottom.

‘Have you spoken to Sam?’ I ask.

‘Yep, he said I should speak to Jesse.’

‘Why would he say that?’ I ask shortly.

‘Well, obviously, because he thinks Jesse is the mystery van buyer.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘If the Lord has brought me a van so you don’t bruise your arse again, then I’ll…well, I’ll love the fact that you bruise like a peach!’

This can’t be right. ‘Kate, you can’t accept it.’

She looks at me in disgust, and I know that there’s not a hope in Hell of her returning the van. I can see it in her delighted eyes.

‘No fucking way! Don’t you dare make me give it back, I’ve already christened her.’

‘What?’ My tone is seriously lacking patience.

She spreads her long, pale fingers over the bonnet. ‘Meet, Margo Junior.’ She lays her torso down on the bonnet of Margo Junior, caressing the pink metal.

I shake my head in exasperation, stomping up the path to the house. No doubt she loves the impossible prat even more now. What’s his game, with flowers for Sally and a van for Kate? Oh, and tossing the Queen’s currency on the kitchen table like it’s a tea towel?

‘I’m taking her for a spin!’ Kate yells up the path to me.

I don’t reply. Instead, I take myself up the stairs and straight into the kitchen to put my flowers in a vase and crack open my bottle of wine. I finish my first glass and go for a shower. He brought Kate a van?

I take my time washing the day away and leaving my conditioner in for five minutes while I shave. As I turn the water off, I hear the Stone Roses track I’ve been desperate to hear all day and nearly break my neck scrambling out of the shower to sprint across the landing. The phone rings off, the screen clearing to reveal eight missed calls.

Oh, no. He’ll be ripping his hair out again. I dial him as I walk across the landing and into the lounge, looking out of the window to see if Kate’s back.

She’s not, but Jesse is pacing up and down the garden path, looking his usual Godly self, in jeans and a thin knitted, navy jumper. I smile, tingling from top to toe at the sight of him. He’s frantically punching buttons on his phone and, just like I knew it would, my mobile lights up in my hand.

Ah! ‘Hello?’ I say, all cool and casual.

‘Where the hell are you?’ he barks down the phone. I ignore his tone.

‘Where are you?’ I counter. Of course, I know damn well where he is. I stand at the window, watching him rake his hand through his hair, but then he disappears from view into the recess of the front door.

‘I’m outside Kate’s kicking the door down,’ he snaps, ‘Is it too much to ask that you answer your phone the first time I call you?’

‘I was otherwise engaged. Why haven’t you called all day?’ I ask, making my way down to the front door.

‘Because, Ava, I don’t want you to feel hounded!’ He’s completed exasperated, making me smile. I love every crazy element of him.

‘But you’re still shouting at me.’ I remind him. I look out of the viewer, dissolving on the spot when I see him leaning against the wall in the open porch way.

‘I am,’ he says softly. ‘You make me crazy. Where are you?’

I watch him slide down the wall until his arse hits the floor, knees bent, head dropped. Oh, I can’t see him like that.

I open the door. ‘Here,’

He looks up and drops his phone from his ear, but makes no attempt to get up. He just looks at me, relief flooding his handsome face. I step out and slide down the wall opposite him so we’re sat across from each other, knee to knee. I half expect him to throw me inside because of my half naked state, but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches forward and places his big hand on my exposed knee. I’m less than surprised when it sends hot sparks of fire flying off all over me.

‘I was in the shower.’

‘Well, take your phone next time.’ he orders.

‘Okay.’ I salute him.

‘Where are your clothes?’ He runs his green eyes over my towel clad body.

Ha! I wouldn’t have dared kept him waiting while I got dressed. I probably would’ve found him dead of a seizure. ‘In my wardrobe,’ I answer dryly.

His hand disappears under my towel, clasping me above my hip bone, prompting a jerk and the loosening of my towel.

‘My man!’

I look down the path and see Sam walking up. When I return my eyes to Jesse, he looks like he may, very well, have a seizure now. His eyes are wide as he jumps to his feet and yanks me up, doing a spectacular job of keeping me covered by the towel.

‘Sam, don’t fucking move!’ he yells. I’m scooped up and bundled through the door at breakneck speed, hearing Sam laughing as Jesse jogs up the stairs with me in his arms, muttering about ripping prying eyes out. I’m tossed on the bed. ‘Get dressed, we’re going out.’

I snap my head up. I’m not going to The Manor. I get up from the bed, minus one towel, and go to my dressing table. ‘Where?’

His gaze travels down my naked form. ‘Well, it occurred to me when I was out running that I’ve not taken you for dinner yet. You have the most incredible legs. Get dressed.’ He nods at my wardrobe.