I was never going to get the floorboards down or sort out the wiring. I’d even watched a YouTube tutorial enticingly titled ‘How to Lay Wood Flooring over Concrete’ but was crucially missing some polyethylene sheeting to ‘minimise moisture migration’ and a few other vital tools, and I already knew in my heart I’d need more than a screwdriver to get the electricity working. I’d somehow convinced myself on the way over that I’d be able to improvise, forgetting I didn’t have my car with my toolbox in the boot.

It didn’t help that the room was almost dark as the café lights barely filtered through, and I was nervy about having them on in case they attracted attention. I’d found a torch in the office, but the beam wasn’t very strong, and the one on my phone drained the battery too quickly. I was down to one bar after watching the stupid tutorial.

I sank to the cold floor and wondered whether it was worth putting a plea on social media for some emergency tradesmen. Then I remembered, I didn’t have any followers so there wasn’t any point. If I’d admitted I was stuck, I could have asked Cassie and Meg to try, but it was too late for that.

Groaning, I threw my phone across the floor, then scrambled to get it back. There was literally nothing I could do but admit defeat, and the last bus from Seashell Cove arrived in around five minutes; I should make it if I left now. Once home, I’d phone my friends – and Gwen – and break the news that the function room wouldn’t be ready for the party. Knowing I’d let everyone down made me want to howl, but I couldn’t keep hoping for a miracle, and alternative arrangements had to be made.

It felt spooky being at the café on my own at night, especially once I’d switched off the lights in the café. A half-moon shone in, casting a silvery glow and glimmering off the Christmas tree decorations. I half-expected Dickens to sidle through, but Gwen would have carted him home on the bus in his fancy carrier. He’d be curled on her lap by now, no doubt being fed caviar from a silver spoon.

My stomach gave a treacherous growl. Cassie would be tucking into a gourmet dinner cooked by Danny, and Meg had said she was meeting Nathan at his brother and sister-in-law’s for a meal. Not that I deserved a nice dinner. Eyes prickling with tears, I let myself out and locked up, and started when my phone buzzed in my hand.

Can you believe his mother insisted on coming? Bridget had attached a picture, shot from below, of a coat-and-boot-clad Felicity watching, stony-faced, as a blurry Jack hurled a bowling ball down the alley with both hands. I actually could believe it. I headed up the path to the bus stop, blinking as a car drove past, headlights cutting through the darkness, trying to picture the scene. So much for their cosy, festive outing. I couldn’t imagine a bigger downer than having Felicity tag along. She’d probably called her friendly judge to update him on the terrible way her grandson was being treated – doing something as common as bowling with his loving dad, accompanied by an accomplished, attractive, single mum and her daughter, and probably eating pizza!

I still couldn’t imagine a judge – even one who was a friend of Felicity’s – opting to remove Jack from his father’s care, and felt hopeful that her plan would come to nothing. I even found myself feeling a bit sorry for her. She was sure to lose Seth and Jack if she kept doggedly pursuing custody. It was only a matter of time before Seth cut her off completely.

Deep in thought, I barely registered the sound of footsteps behind me, and let out a choking gasp when a hand landed on my shoulder and someone spoke my name. I dropped my bags and spun round, ready to kick out at whoever it was – if my tights would let me. It was a man. A tall, broad-shouldered man, wearing a thick coat and a hat with earflaps.

‘Seth!’

‘Sorry, I’m sorry.’ He backed away with his hands up as though I’d whipped out a sword. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’

‘What… why are you here?’ I felt for my phone, which I’d dropped in the pocket of my coat. Seth’s coat. ‘You’re bowling,’ I said. ‘I got a text.’

‘From me?’ He sounded confused.

‘Surely you’d know if you’d sent me a text.’ I was breathless with fright – and something else I wasn’t willing to name. ‘From Bridget.’

‘Oh, right.’ He lowered his hands. ‘She must have sent it earlier.’ He stepped forward. ‘We just got back and I spotted your keys in the car,’ he said, holding them out so they jangled. ‘I thought you might need them.’

‘You could have given them to Bridget and asked her to come and get me.’

‘Romy was a bit overexcited.’ He dropped the keys in my palm, and I slid them into my (his) pocket. ‘Bridget wanted to get her home, so I offered to come.’

‘What about Jack?’

‘My mother’s a very efficient babysitter, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Oh, right,’ I said. ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to keep implying you’ve left him at home alone.’ My brain struggled to keep up – to accept he was even there, though mostly in silhouette, shadowed by darkness.

‘Bridget said you were meeting your friends at the pub once you’d finished working, but when you weren’t there, I guessed you might have come back here.’

‘I did.’ I remembered the headlights I’d seen. ‘That was your car,’ I said.

‘I didn’t realise it was you at first, you were practically running.’

‘I was trying to catch a bus.’ I looked up the road, but could only see an endless stretch of velvet-black sky, carpeted with stars. ‘It’s the last one and I’ve probably missed it.’ I sounded as close to tears as I felt.

‘I’m sorry.’ Seth’s breath hung in the cold air between us. ‘So, you haven’t finished whatever you had to do?’

I dropped my bags at my feet and blew on my hands. ‘No,’ I said, incapable of dressing it up. ‘I’m no good at the hands-on stuff, apart from painting and sticking up the occasional roll of wallpaper. I’m good at seeing what needs to be done and organising people to do it, and I love the finishing touches. That’s my forte. It was all going according to plan until that bloody leak, and the floor took ages to dry, and then the floorboards were wrong and had to go back, and then Ted couldn’t fit the work in, and the electrician broke his arm and I couldn’t find another – electrician, not arm – and now there isn’t time to get the room ready before the Maitlands come back.’

A couple of tears spilled over. ‘Sorry,’ I said, flicking them away. ‘It’s just that it sucks, because all sorts of things were supposed to happen at the party on Christmas Eve.’

‘What sort of things?’

‘Well, for a start, my friend Cassie’s boyfriend is planning to propose, then she’s going to announce that they’re having a baby…’ I stopped. He’d stepped closer, wrapping a hand around mine as gently as if he was picking up a newborn kitten. ‘Gwen, the manager, is planning to make a move on the guy who works behind the counter because she fancies him – not that he knows it,’ I continued in a shaky voice, ‘and Meg has arranged a surprise wedding for her mum and dad, and it’s really important because she thought her dad was dead until earlier this year, and her mum doesn’t like going out so it’s meant to be informal and the setting’s perfect, or would be if I’d got my act together and got the place ready in time, like I promised.’

‘Whoa,’ said Seth. He produced a tissue from his coat pocket and pressed it into my free hand. ‘This is all meant to be happening at the party?’

I nodded, scrubbing the tissue across my eyes. ‘It’s top secret, so I shouldn’t even be telling you.’ I let out a sob – the first time I’d cried in I couldn’t remember how long. ‘I’ve promised them all the function room will be ready and now I’m going to have to let them down, which I hate, because I always keep my word.’

‘Well, sometimes that’s just not possible.’ Seth’s voice was gentle. ‘You’ve tried your very best, haven’t you?’

‘Well… yes, but no one’s available to work now this close to Christmas Eve, which, as everyone keeps reminding me, is the day after tomorrow.’

‘But that’s not your fault.’ He gently pressed my fingers. ‘You weren’t to know there’d be a leak, or the floorboards would be wrong, or that the electrician would break his arm.’

‘I should have been able to work around it.’

‘You’ve tried your best, by the sound of things.’

‘Bridget would say it’s typical of me.’ I gave an unladylike sniff, and tipped my head to stop more tears falling. ‘That I dilly about too much.’

‘Dilly about?’ His tone was teasing. ‘You need to remember your sister was probably holding onto some jealousy about you. She talked about it a bit, while Mum wasn’t listening,’ he added, when I made a sound of surprise. ‘She thinks coming home, and your parents being away, has helped her see things differently. That you’ve helped her see things differently.’

‘She said that?’

‘I told you.’ The pressure on my hand increased. ‘You have a way of bringing out the best in people, of saying the right things.’

‘It hasn’t worked on your mother.’ I said it more to deflect his words, which had sent a spread of heat through my whole body. ‘I’m starting to wonder whether she even has a best side.’

‘I’ve wondered that myself,’ admitted Seth. We’d been officially holding hands for more than a minute and I was no closer to letting go. ‘Her saving grace is she thinks the world of Jack and, although she’s going about it the wrong way, I know she thinks she has his best interests at heart.’

‘She’s got a funny way of showing it.’ But it was nice to hear him defending his mother, in spite of everything. ‘Anyway, thanks for coming to find me, and I’m sorry about… you know.’ I held up the soggy, crumpled tissue.

‘You don’t need to apologise.’

As I met his eyes, the whites gleaming brightly, a flurry of snow began to dance around us.

‘Oh wow.’ Seth looked up, and held out his free hand as if to pocket the flakes. ‘I hope it settles this time,’ he said, a smile breaking out. ‘Jack’s desperate for it to snow.’

‘It’s a shame we can’t order it specially,’ I said, smiling too. ‘You should get

back to him.’

‘Not until I’ve driven you home.’

‘Don’t be silly, I can easily call a taxi.’

‘It’s the least I can do.’

‘Not this again.’ It came out as a wail. ‘Please, Seth, stop proposing favours.’

‘You haven’t heard what I’m going to say next.’ Now he was holding my other hand and despite the cold, I felt as if I was melting. ‘I think you’re going to like it,’ he said.

My heart started racing. ‘Go on.’

‘You should have said sooner you were struggling to get the room finished,’ he said, still smiling. ‘But then we wouldn’t be standing here, and I think this might be the best night out I’ve had in ages.’

He must really like bowling, and freezing his toes off with grizzling females. ‘Will you just say it?’ I blinked snowflakes off my eyelashes, my heart bumping harder.

‘You can have the team for the day tomorrow.’

‘The team?’ I was momentarily confused; pictured footballers prancing on a snowy pitch.

‘You might have noticed there are workmen at my cottage,’ he said, with exaggerated patience. ‘Including an electrician. Although, I expect they’ve downed tools for the night and gone back to their hotel to drink, and bitch about my mother.’

‘Oh my god.’ Remembering I’d briefly thought before about asking if I could borrow them, I felt a frisson of excitement. ‘Are you saying…?’

He nodded. ‘All yours.’

‘But… there’s quite a lot to do.’

‘So?’ He gave my hands a gentle shake. ‘I’ll pay them double, triple, whatever they want and they’re fast,’ he said. ‘It’ll be a challenge, like that sixty-minute makeover programme I was hooked on for a while.’

Hope rose, warm and bright, inside me. ‘But, your mum,’ I said, not daring to believe it. ‘She’ll be furious.’

‘She’ll have to live with it.’ He squeezed my hands, and I squeezed back, as it fully sank in that, if the team really was coming over, the function room could still be ready for the party. I wouldn’t have to let anyone down. ‘And this is your final payback?’ I said. ‘You’ll stop going on about owing me anything afterwards?’

‘Promise,’ he said, teeth flashing.

On impulse, I leaned in and kissed his cheek, which wasn’t as cold as I’d have expected. The words hot-blooded shot through my mind. He smelt of warm skin with a hint of garlic from the vegetable lasagne we’d eaten earlier, and as I pulled away, he turned his head so our lips were barely millimetres apart.

‘Thank you,’ I murmured. Our eyes locked. A snowflake landed on the tip of his nose and I wanted to lick it off.

I sprang back, releasing his hands. ‘It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.’ I bent to pick up my bags, which were already dusted with snow. ‘I should get an early night.’

When I looked up, he was watching me with a look I couldn’t describe – mostly because it was dark, and my vision was obscured by falling flakes. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘I’ll race you back to your car.’