‘What do you think brought it on?’

‘I’m not sure.’ I watched Meg pull a tray of gingerbread robins from the oven the following morning and set them down to cool. ‘It must be the Seth Donovan effect.’

‘I can see how that would work.’ Meg’s smile was mischievous. ‘Being in love can have a transformative effect.’

‘Yuk,’ I said. ‘She’s been in love before and still been a bitch.’ My stomach squeezed with hunger at the sight and smell of the freshly baked bread, cakes and pastries in the Old Bakery kitchen. ‘And she can’t be in love. They’ve only been out together once.’

‘Remember, we’re talking about Seth Donovan,’ said Meg, as though he’d won some eligible bachelor of the year title. (Maybe he had.) ‘And they kissed.’ She paused, one hand wedged in an oven glove. ‘A lot can happen during a single kiss.’

I rolled my eyes, feeling skittish since receiving an email that morning from one of the electricians I’d reached out to, saying the only time he could fit the work in was Saturday evening at seven. I’d gushingly accepted, not caring how much it would cost. ‘I know you and Nathan imploded the second your lips met, and you saw rainbows and fairies, but it’s not like that for everyone.’

‘It can happen, though.’ She gave an emphatic nod. ‘For me, for Cassie and Danny… for anyone. Even your scary sister.’

‘I suppose.’ I tried to remember my most significant kiss, but could only recall my worst; a tongue, darting in and out of my mouth like a lizard after a fly, from a fellow design student I’d avoided for the rest of the year. Why hadn’t I had a significant kiss?

‘Isn’t Rufus a good kisser?’

‘I suppose so.’ I indulged a memory of his lips moving on mine. ‘Not earth-shattering, but pleasant.’

‘Pleasant?’

‘Believe me, pleasant is a step up from someone sneezing in your mouth, getting snagged on your braces, chewing your bottom lip, and telling you that if you moved your mouth a bit more, you’d be a better kisser.’

‘Wow.’ Meg shuddered. ‘You’ve had some horrible experiences.’

‘All with the same person,’ I deadpanned. ‘He’s doing life for murder now.’

She giggled. ‘Seriously, though, if Bridget’s being nicer to you and it’s all down to Seth, then maybe it’s his way of repaying you for saving Jack.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, hearing about you from a new perspective might have made Bridget think about you differently.’

I remembered our brief conversation in the car on the way home, when she’d said something similar. ‘So, you’re saying Seth said nice things on purpose. For me?’ It made a sort of sense, considering how indebted he still felt – but didn’t tally with the way he’d avoided my eyes on his return.

‘Who knows?’ Meg shrugged. ‘But you told us you mentioned to him that you don’t get on with your sister and that’s why you weren’t at home much these days, so maybe he thought he was doing you a favour.’

Her words stayed with me as I left the bakery with a bag of bread rolls and a couple of (undecorated) gingerbread robins, and on impulse I pulled out my phone to call him, but spotted a text from Gwen.

Floorboards here, where r u??

Almost there I texted back. At last. I ducked into my car and called Ted, to ask if he could come back to the café.

‘Sorry, I’m tied up,’ was the short reply.

‘Not literally, I hope.’

He didn’t laugh. ‘It’ll have to wait until after Christmas now, Tilly, I’m sorry.’

‘But, Ted, it can’t.’

‘You’ll have to find someone else, then.’ I’d forgiven his dour manner in the past, having heard his wife had left him for a plumber, but suddenly I didn’t blame her. ‘Fine,’ I said, sounding churlish. ‘I will.’ The words good luck with that seemed imminent, but he managed not to say them.

Ending the call, I was gripped by panic. The Maitlands were going to return to find their lovely new function room no closer to completion than when they’d left, and although I knew they’d be lovely about it – and would probably suggest holding the party in the main café – I’d promised it would be ready and couldn’t face letting them down.

Maybe I could ask Cassie if Danny knew someone who could help. I’d already gone through Dad’s list of building contacts the previous evening, while Bridget read The Night Before Christmas to Romy, to no avail. Unable to face Gwen right away, I texted her to say I’d be in later on, and finally called Seth.

He answered right away. ‘That’s odd, I was about to ring you.’

I remembered Bridget saying he’d seemed distracted. ‘Everything OK?’ I said, relieved I hadn’t blurted out what was in the text you sent my sister yesterday? ‘Is Jack all right?’

‘He’s actually pretty good.’ There was a smile in Seth’s voice. ‘He was telling me about the story game you played the other night.’

‘It was fun,’ I said. ‘He’s pretty good at I spy, too.’

‘I wouldn’t have imagined him playing games like that.’

‘Sometimes, you have to just start,’ I said. ‘Not that I’m telling you what to do.’

‘Please do.’ His tone was dry. ‘It’s obvious you’re channelling Mary Poppins.’ I started at the mention of my aspirational nanny. ‘Only with better clothes and hair, obviously.’

‘Hardly.’

‘Honestly, Tilly, I don’t know where I’d be now if you hadn’t come into my life.’ His words came out in a low rush, with none of the hesitancy I’d sensed when he’d come home with Bridget. ‘Though obviously I’d have preferred it to have been less dramatic, without any near-drownings.’

‘Let’s not go there again.’ I purposely kept my voice light. ‘You’ve made it clear how grateful you are, you don’t need to keep on thanking me.’

‘About the other night—’

‘Bridget loved it,’ I said. ‘She’s been in a brilliant mood since, and has been very nice to me.’

‘She has?’ He sounded pleased. ‘I’m glad.’

‘Whatever you said about me, it worked.’

‘She couldn’t believe you hadn’t told her about saving Jack,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t believe it either.’

‘Well, she knows now.’

‘I did go on about you a bit.’ He gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘But I got the impression she didn’t want to talk about family, so I shut up in the end.’

‘Family’s a bit of a sore point, I’m afraid.’

‘So I gathered.’

‘I was expecting her to be hungover after your date, but your text perked her up no end.’ Why had I mentioned the text?

‘It did?’

‘Whatever you said, I think she needed to hear it.’ Now I was fishing for details.

‘That’s good.’ He sounded relieved. ‘She’s a wonderful and interesting woman,’ he said. ‘I’ve never met anyone like her, and—’

‘Romy and Jack got on well, too.’ It was rude to butt in, but hearing him sing Bridget’s praises felt a bit weird – though, obviously, I was glad that they’d got on.

‘I hope they’ll see more of each other. I think it’ll be good for Jack to see someone apart from me.’

‘Have you heard from your mother?’ I wondered idly what he was wearing, and remembered I still had the clothes he’d lent me.

‘That’s why I was going to call you.’

‘Oh?’

A sigh wafted down the line. ‘She’s coming back tomorrow, and I know it’s to try and persuade Jack and me to stay at Oaklands over Christmas, which she says is a time for families to be together, and I’d prefer Jack not to be here, in case things get heated.’

‘Are they likely to?’

‘Do you really need to ask?’

‘Fair point,’ I said. ‘Shall I ask Bridget to have him over at our house?’

‘I’d rather he was with you.’ His words were instant and heartfelt. ‘What with you being his official “nanny”.’

In the rear-view mirror, I saw that my eyes were shiny and my cheeks were peony-pink. About to say yes, and that I might need to take him with me to the café, I suddenly remembered. ‘Oh shoot, I can’t, Seth. I’m going to a wedding tomorrow.’ And I need to find a floor fitter.

‘Ah yes,’ said Seth. ‘With Rufus. Your sister mentioned it.’ I recalled how he’d seemed a bit off with me back at the cottage, and wondered what else Bridget had said. She’d probably told him that this was my first ‘grown-up’ relationship, and how I’d never gone out with anyone for longer than a month before. Perhaps he disapproved. ‘I promised I’d go,’ I said, wondering at the pang of regret that tugged at my insides.

‘Not to worry.’ I had the sense he was holding back from saying something different. ‘I’ll make sure things stay calm here, and do something nice with Jack before she arrives.’

‘Sounds like a plan.’ It was nice to hear him more relaxed about doing things with his son. ‘There’s a pantomime on at the Little Theatre near Salcombe,’ I said, remembering going to see Dick Whittington there with the school when I was six, and being vaguely terrified by all the shouting of He’s behind you! ‘I think they do a matinee.’

‘Good idea.’

‘You could start a yearly tradition.’

A short silence followed. Customers continued to dip in and out of the bakery, and a waving, big-bellied Santa drew up on a full-size sleigh with flashing lights, pulled by a big yellow van instead of reindeers, drawing excited glances from passing children.

‘What’s that noise?’ Seth said, as a tinny, and rather ghostly rendition of ‘Little Drummer Boy’ filled the air.

‘Father Christmas collecting money for charity.’ I became aware of competing male voices, singing ‘Silent Night’ on the other end of the line. ‘Sounds like the team are auditioning for The Voice.’

‘The team are painting the staircase and landing today.’ For a second, I thought about asking to borrow the team for the café, except they were on a deadline too. A Felicity Donovan deadline. I could only imagine the wrath it would incur if the work wasn’t completed on schedule, to her exacting standards. ‘I’ll be glad when they’re done to be honest,’ Seth continued. ‘It’s intrusive having people in the house, and Digby’s not up to going for another walk.’

‘At least you’re letting them get on with it.’ I recalled a couple of jobs where clients had badgered me constantly, changing their minds about what they wanted, and another who’d fired the decorator because he’d had the cheek to take a tea break. ‘A couple more days and they’ll be done.’

‘If you’ve any advice about tables and stuff like that, I’d appreciate your input,’ he said. ‘I don’t have much of a clue about that sort of thing, but my mother’s stuff is a bit old-fashioned.’ I guessed he was referring to the big, shiny table and high-backed chairs in the dining room. ‘That’s if you wouldn’t mind.’

‘Of course.’ I felt a slight sinking sensation. He was obviously still scrabbling for scraps to throw me, and before he was halfway through saying, ‘I’ll pay you for your time,’ I said, ‘I don’t need paying, thank you.’

Another pause hung between us, broken by Jack’s voice. ‘Dad, can we go to the smugglers’ caves on the beach?’

‘Smugglers’ caves?’

‘He means the ones further down from you,’ I said. ‘There’s a little network of caves past the headland, where the cliff juts out, but it’s easy to get caught by the tide so you need to check the times before you go.’

‘I don’t think so, Jack,’ said Seth. ‘They sound dangerous.’

‘I’ve got a map on my iPad. I know where they are.’

‘It’s too dangerous.’

I didn’t fully hear Jack’s response, but caught the words hate you.

‘He doesn’t hate you, he’s lashing out,’ I said. ‘Kids do that when they don’t get their own way.’

‘I bet you didn’t.’

‘I always got my own way,’ I joked. ‘I wasn’t a very demanding child by all accounts. Not that I’m saying Jack is,’ I added quickly. ‘He really isn’t.’

‘I know.’ Seth sounded a bit defeated. ‘Why do I feel like I’ve just taken a giant step backwards?’

‘Give him time,’ I said. ‘I know it’s a cliché, but you have to be patient.’

‘Yes, Miss Poppins, but I don’t have the luxury of time,’ Seth reminded me. ‘Not if my mother wants her own way.’

‘I still don’t see how a judge would determine he’s better off with her, than with you,’ I said. ‘I honestly think you just need to ride this out.’

‘My mother’s best friend is a judge, and Mum can be incredibly persuasive.’

‘Right.’ I felt his frustration. ‘Listen, check out times for the pantomime, then get Jack in the garden,’ I said. ‘Plant something together.’

‘Gardening?’ He sounded aghast. ‘In this weather?’

‘A bit of cold weather won’t hurt,’ I said. ‘Did you see the snow the other night?’

‘It snowed?’

I sighed; imagined him checking on Jack before getting into bed (did Seth wear pyjamas?) and staring at the ceiling, worrying as he waited for sleep to claim him. Or maybe he’d been thinking about his kiss with Bridget, and wishing she’d stayed after all. ‘Only a bit,’ I said. ‘Jack would have liked it.’

‘I wish it had settled. I’m dying to build a snowman with him on the beach.’

He sounded wistful, and I remembered Jack sleepily talking about making a sand snowman with his dad.

‘It’ll snow again,’ I said. ‘Probably.’

‘I hope so.’ After another brief pause he said, ‘I’ve started writing a children’s story, about a boy and his dad and the adventures they have together.’ He groaned. ‘God, that sounds so trite, and it’s probably been done better a million times before, but it’s preferable to writing my autobiography. I’m actually enjoying it.’

‘That sounds great.’ I smiled. ‘Try reading it to Jack, see what he thinks.’

‘What if he says it’s crap?’

‘You won’t know, unless you try.’

‘I’m definitely going to start calling you Mary.’

‘Please don’t.’

The silence this time was comfortable. Our conversation appeared to have run its course, but I was oddly reluctant to get off the phone.

‘Sure you don’t want to come over?’ Seth sounded equally reluctant, but I resisted the pull of temptation. He probably wanted a bit of backup with Jack, but they needed time to themselves. ‘I’ve got work to do,’ I said brightly. ‘This function room won’t finish itself.’ Unfortunately.

‘Maybe Jack and I could pop over to the café.’ Seth’s voice warmed up. ‘I’m assuming they do a nice line in hot chocolate with marshmallows at this time of year?’

My heart bumped. ‘Aren’t you worried you’ll be recognised at the café?’

‘I’ve done enough skulking about,’ he said. ‘If Jack and I are going to live around here, the locals need to get used to us.’ I couldn’t argue with that. ‘I’m probably doing more harm than good by hiding us both away.’

It was a pretty miraculous turnaround in just a week. ‘OK,’ I said, thinking quickly. ‘Make it around three o’clock.’

‘Great!’ Seth sounded invigorated. ‘Can we bring the dog?’