‘I’ll actually miss this place,’ said Ollie, accepting the plate of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs I’d rustled up for what he was calling The Last Supper – even though it was breakfast. ‘It’s been hashtag memorable.’

‘Don’t say hashtag,’ Erin scolded.

He grinned, checking her out. She looked undeniably sexy in my stripy pyjamas, even with tangled hair and no make-up, and he was clearly having carnal thoughts. Erin had refused to sleep with him on the grounds that it would be disrespectful to me – as well as to humanity, considering he was a massive idiot.

I’d never seen him happier to be insulted.

‘It feels like you’ve been here longer than a week,’ I said, sliding a plate across the worktop to Craig. He looked tired, but then none of us had slept much, rehashing what had happened over mugs of hot chocolate and mince pies, once Erin and Ollie had joined us in the kitchen.

Ollie, hyped up on adrenaline and love, had been full of admiration for Barry and Sheelagh, and how ‘marvellous’ it was that she accepted her husband ‘warts, knickers, and all’.

‘That’s all a man really wants,’ he’d said, gazing longingly at Erin, who looked at him like something on the bottom of her shoe, as if they hadn’t been kissing each other’s faces off minutes earlier.

By contrast, Craig had reverted to his earlier self, despite my best efforts to engage him in the analysis of our neighbours’ private lives.

‘That must be why they didn’t want you to interview them,’ I’d said, which had led to Craig explaining to Ollie and Erin his plans for a ‘talking heads’ type show, which they’d both declared was ‘genius’.

He was eating his breakfast standing up, as if to underline the fact that he wouldn’t be hanging around for much longer.

‘Did you have a nice run?’ I said, forcing a broad smile, noticing his trainers on the mat by the door. I was going to miss seeing them. ‘It looks like it might snow again.’

‘I didn’t go for a run,’ he said, politely. ‘I was loading the car, then I went to fill it up with petrol.’

‘Sexy,’ said Erin.

I would miss her too, I realised, as she turned away to pile her plate with food. I was about to ask if she’d like to stay for the weekend, when my mobile vibrated with an incoming call.

‘Lily, are you OK?’ Mum said, sounding panicked. ‘I just saw it on the morning news.’

‘It?’ I said, putting the empty egg pan in the sink. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Ollie Matheson saved someone from a fire,’ she said. ‘There was a little bit of wobbly footage and I recognised your neighbour’s house.’

‘Footage?’

‘Lily, why are you repeating everything?’ She sounded exasperated. ‘Doris knew what I meant right away and explained everything, but I wanted to check for myself that you hadn’t inhaled smoke, or anything.’

‘Doris?’

‘Lily, for goodness sake! You weren’t answering, so I called her.’

‘I’m fine, I’m fine.’ I looked at Craig. He was washing his plate at the sink, as if he’d been doing it for years. ‘Hang on a sec,’ I said to Mum, and Craig turned, as if alerted to something in my voice. ‘Mum says Ollie was on the news.’

‘What?’ Ollie stopped trying to fork eggs into Erin’s mouth. ‘How so?’

Craig slowly dried his hands. ‘Nothing to do with me,’ he said. ‘I didn’t have my camera. One of the neighbours must have filmed it on their phone.’ He aimed a small grin at Ollie. ‘At least there’s something real to show for your time in Shipley.’

Ollie looked overcome. ‘I didn’t even notice anyone recording me.’

‘That’s a first,’ Craig said drily. ‘At least you were being you. And now everyone else will see that, too.’

A thought struck. ‘What about Barry?’

There was a rush as they dived for their phones. Erin got to hers first and found the news website. ‘You can see it’s Ollie and that he’s carrying someone, but not in any detail… then it pans to a shot of the house and that smoking-hot fireman,’ she said, as we craned over her shoulder for a look.

‘He’s not that hot,’ grumbled Ollie. ‘And his helmet’s too big.’

‘Well, whoever cropped the footage and sent it in meant well.’ I felt a swell of emotion. ‘It was a nice thing to do.’

‘Awesome,’ Erin agreed, looking a bit shiny-eyed. ‘Maybe the neighbours won’t hate you now you’ve rescued one of their own,’ she said to Ollie. I noticed her bare foot was resting on his trousered knee, and that he didn’t seem to mind one bit.

‘You know what, I don’t care.’ He looked like he’d had a eureka moment. ‘As long as the people I care about know the real me, who gives a fig about the rest of the world?’

‘Oh god, he’s gone all Disney,’ groaned Erin. ‘Pass the sick bucket.’

‘I think that’s amazing.’ Crossing the kitchen, I kissed Ollie’s bristly cheek. He’d announced he was growing a beard again, because shaving was a ‘total bore’. ‘And it only took you thirty-odd years to realise.’

‘Lily!’ screeched a tinny voice.

‘Oops, sorry, Mum.’ I lifted my mobile once more. ‘Did you hear all that?’

‘You sound very affectionate towards him, Lily, but remember what I said. Men like Ollie Matheson—’

‘It’s fine, Mum, you’ve no need to worry,’ I said. ‘I told you Ollie was in love with someone else.’ Erin pretended to vomit. ‘She’s right here, actually.’

‘I thought I recognised Erin’s voice.’ Mum sounded pleased, as if she’d known all along that Ollie was in love with my friend. ‘Tell Ollie he’s welcome to come and direct our next production,’ she added. ‘We’re doing a spoof of The Mousetrap, set in the future.’

‘I’ll tell him,’ I promised, though I had a feeling Ollie’s plans wouldn’t involve any amateur dramatic productions.

‘Anyway, I’ve got to go.’ She made it sound as if I was the one who’d called her. ‘I’m meeting your brother for brunch.’

‘At the hipster café?’

‘It’s not a hipster café.’ She tutted. ‘He wants me to try their new deconstructed English breakfast tasting plate,’ she said. ‘Apparently, it’s very playful.’

‘All good with the Ambroses?’ Erin said, as I ended the call with a smile.

‘All good.’

‘Right then.’ Ollie stopped massaging Erin’s toes and stood up. ‘I guess it’s time to say ciao.’

‘Only if you’re Italian, you chump,’ said Erin, buttering some more toast.

‘Are you going to your parents’?’ I asked him, aware of Craig’s barely concealed impatience as he pushed his feet into his trainers.

‘Yah, I’ll probably catch up with the folks and then…’ He looked a bit lost for a moment. ‘Actually, I don’t know what’s next, except that it involves sorting out some training if I want to be a top-notch director, and then whisking this amazing woman somewhere exotic.’ He brushed a crumb from the corner of Erin’s mouth. ‘What do you say?’

‘I say, forget that,’ she said. ‘I’m spending Christmas with my family, and no doubt I’ll be coming back here to visit Lily.’

‘What about you, Craig?’ I said, keeping my tone light.

‘I’ll pop home and see my dad,’ said Craig, pulling his jacket on over his long-sleeved top. ‘Check Linda hasn’t been over-feeding him.’

‘I’d love to see your home, some time.’ The words flew out and landed in an awkward heap. No one spoke for a second, but I noticed Ollie and Erin swap a look. ‘What I mean is, it would be nice to stay in touch.’ I gave a silly laugh. ‘Don’t you think?’

‘Of course we’ll stay in touch.’ It was Ollie who came over and drew me into a bear hug. ‘We’re practically family now,’ he said, while I discreetly inhaled his delicious scent. ‘You can’t get rid of us that easily, you know.’ He pulled away and planted his hands on my shoulders. ‘Now, how much do I owe you for our stay?’

‘Don’t be silly,’ I said, feeling almost tearful. ‘You’ve just said, we’re practically family. Family don’t charge for staying.’

‘Say ten grand,’ said Erin. ‘He can afford it.’

I ignored her. ‘I really don’t want your money.’

‘Well, how about an open invitation to the chateau,’ he said, eyes twinkling at full pelt. ‘Call it a Christmas present, and bring Fiona. She’d love it.’

She would. It would increase her status no end at the shop, and with the Acting Out bunch. ‘We might take you up on that,’ I said.

‘I’m counting on it.’ Ollie’s smile held genuine affection, and it struck me how different he seemed to the man who’d turned up a day early, supposedly to avoid detection, but really to attract attention. Although part of it was down to Erin, I liked to think there’d been a shift in his attitude, and felt glad that I’d played a small part.

It was just a shame that Craig seemed distant, rather than happy that his friendship with Ollie was intact, and Tattie was off the scene.

‘Sure I can’t take you back with me?’ Ollie turned to Erin, who was on her third slice of toast.

‘Nope,’ she said, cheek bulging. ‘I’m staying with Lily, if she’ll have me. I need a proper tour of the cottage, and to see Shipley by daylight.’

‘Of course,’ I said, pleased. It wasn’t that I couldn’t face being on my own – although it would be strange – but I knew once they’d gone I’d either have a little cry, or spend too much time wondering whether I’d upset Craig. Probably both. ‘There’s a nice café on the seafront where we could have lunch.’

‘You will come out for dinner with me next week, though?’ Ollie said to Erin, sounding unusually anxious for a ‘player’. ‘Chiltern Firehouse?’

The name rang a bell. I remembered the receipt I’d come across among Ollie’s things, and wondered if he’d kept it for sentimental reasons. The notion was heart-warming.

‘Or we could try my local, The Dog and Duck.’ Erin’s tone was lofty.

‘Ooh, it’s nice there,’ I said. ‘They’ve got fancy tiles.’

‘O-kay.’ He chewed the corner of his bottom lip for a moment, then sighed. ‘I suppose I’d better go and get my things,’ he said, not taking his eyes off Erin as he left the kitchen, closely followed by Craig.

‘I’m never going to be one of those girls,’ Erin said fiercely, when Ollie was upstairs out of earshot. ‘I won’t roll over and be his little plaything.’

‘You’re not a plaything,’ I said gently. ‘And he knows it.’

Craig had gone outside, leaving the front door ajar. An icy breeze made me shiver, and the melancholy sound of a seagull seemed to reach inside me.

‘Come and wave us off then,’ said Ollie, reappearing with his holdall. He’d thrown his navy coat on and looked as handsome as ever – in spite of the trilby, which Erin immediately plucked from his head and tossed into the kitchen. ‘You look like a buffoon.’

‘Oi, you minx.’ But he didn’t bother to retrieve it.

‘It’s bloody freezing.’ Erin pulled her coat on and I followed suit, reflecting that I’d been outside a lot this week with my coat on over my nightclothes. Perhaps I’d start a new trend and become known as the eccentric coat-lady.

To my surprise, a congregation had gathered in the garden, and when Ollie emerged they applauded and gave him a cheer. Even Doris had defrosted enough to join in, putting down her gingham-covered basket to clap, alongside a thirty-something couple I didn’t recognise.

‘The Jensens,’ Doris mouthed, stabbing a finger in their direction when she saw me looking. They must have taken time out from their high-powered jobs to see what the fuss was about.

‘I gave everyone a heads-up that we were leaving,’ said Craig, joining us on the doorstep. He folded his arms, as if unsure what to do with them when he wasn’t holding his camera. ‘I thought they might want to make sure we were actually going.’

‘Ha, ha,’ I said, happy that he wasn’t waiting in the car, and that he’d clearly wanted Ollie to have a good send-off.

‘You’re a hero,’ Annabel shouted to Ollie, as if her memory had been wiped and she’d completely forgotten our encounter in The Anchor. ‘Come back any time, you’ll always be welcome.’

There was a chorus of ‘hear, hears’ and Ollie gave a modest bow, before pulling me forward and placing his arm around me. ‘I’ve had an amazing time, thanks to this wonderful lady,’ he said. ‘Be nice to her, or I’ll come back and annoy the hell out of you all.’

There was a quiver of laughter, and I noticed Mr Flannery navigating the festive inflatables in the garden next door. He was leaving the Lamberts’ house, which was remarkably unscathed, apart from the boarded-up window where the curtains had caught fire, and some smoke damage around the frame.

‘What’s he up to?’ I said, seeing his shifty expression.

‘Saw what happened on the news, this morning,’ he called, pushing through my gate to join the assembled neighbours in the frost-tipped garden. ‘Just wanted to check they were OK.’

‘Oh.’

He looked shifty, even when he was being nice. ‘I told Barry, ages ago, to just come out and tell folk.’

‘You knew?’ I said.

‘Saw him with a cross-dressing mate in John Lewis, buying underwear.’ He jabbed his hands in his anorak pockets. ‘Said I wouldn’t say anything, if that’s what he wanted.’

I could only gawp, while Doris gave him a huffy look, presumably because he’d found something out before she had.

‘We don’t need to discuss it any further,’ she said, adding without irony, ‘it’s really none of our business.’

As if on cue, the Lamberts’ front door opened and Barry and Sheelagh materialised arm-in-arm, like royalty putting on a brave front after a scandal had rocked the family. As they came into the garden, another cheer went up, and Sheelagh looked as if she might explode into tears.

Barry kept his head high as he came forward, and he shook Ollie’s hand without looking as if he’d like to snap his arm off. ‘Just wanted to thank you for last night,’ he said gruffly. There was a trace of lipstick at the corner of his mouth, but in his trench coat and bandana he was very much the male version of himself. ‘There wasn’t any need to shoulder the door down and throw me about like that, but’ – he glanced around, almost meeting people’s eyes – ‘I reckon you did me a favour.’

Sheelagh took hold of my hand and lowered her voice. ‘I called our Bryony to tell her what had happened and she’s flying home today,’ she said.

‘Oh, Sheelagh, that’s wonderful.’

‘Thank you for inviting Ollie to stay.’ She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. ‘We’ll never forget what you did for us.’

‘The pleasure was all mine, Loretta,’ said Ollie graciously, and there was another smattering of applause. The crowd parted to let him walk to the gate, where he paused to blow me a kiss before going to the car and slinging his bag in the boot.

‘He’ll have a Jesus complex after this,’ said Erin. ‘I’d better go and say a proper goodbye.’

She shot after him, and the neighbours jostled around as he bundled Erin inside the car, like a celebrity hiding his girlfriend from the paparazzi.

‘He’s forgotten his trumpet!’ she called, as he dived into the back seat after her and slammed the door.

I followed Craig inside and through to the living room, where the case was standing by the Christmas tree. ‘I can’t believe he forgot it,’ I said, feeling awkward.

‘No,’ said Craig, and I felt a powerful surge of emotion as I realised Ollie had left it on purpose to give us a moment alone.

Craig seemed to realise it too as he levelled his gaze to mine.

‘Did I say something wrong?’ I blurted out. I couldn’t let him go without asking.

‘Of course not.’ His clear eyes widened. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘But…’ I thought you liked me sounded childish. ‘You’ve been off with me since last night.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, not denying it. ‘It’s just that, when you told Annabel off in the pub… it reminded me, you got badly hurt not so long ago.’

‘I did,’ I said quickly. ‘But, to be honest, it was more what happened after the relationship ended than the break-up itself.’ I had a feeling my face was brick-red but ploughed on, ‘You probably overheard my mum telling Ollie about my encounter with Max’s wife.’

He dropped his gaze and nodded. ‘I also heard you tell her that you had no intention of having another relationship, that you just wanted casual flings—’

‘I didn’t kiss Ollie,’ I burst out. ‘I nearly did, but it didn’t feel right.’

He lifted his head, a smile touching his eyes. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘Though I wouldn’t blame you if you had. I’d probably kiss him myself if I was a girl.’

I gave a shaky laugh. ‘So…?’

He grew serious. ‘I don’t want to have a fling with you.’

‘Oh.’ My heart was thundering in my chest. ‘Well, that’s fine,’ I said, hoping I wasn’t about to cry, desperately reminding myself that I barely knew him. OK, so I thought we’d forged a bond, and had a connection, but it was obviously one-sided.

He took a step closer. ‘What I mean is, I’d want more than a fling.’

‘Oh?’ My heart picked up speed again.

He reached out his hand and wrapped his fingers round mine, and their warmth flowed through me. ‘I’ve had the best time, this week.’

‘Me too.’ Elation blossomed in my chest. ‘Fire’s featured a lot,’ I said, hearing a crackle of burning logs in the grate. He must have got up early to get it going.

‘It has.’ A smile spread across his face. ‘There’s probably something meaningful in that, but I can’t think what it is.’

Outside, a car horn blasted.

Craig tightened his grip on my hand. ‘I suppose I’d better get going.’

I didn’t want to let go, or for the moment to end. ‘You’ll call me?’

‘Oh, yes.’ He nodded firmly, keeping his eyes on mine. ‘I’ve got your number.’

‘You have?’

‘I got Ollie to get it off Erin before we came here. I tried to ring to let you know we were coming, but Ollie grabbed my phone off me and threw it in the back of the car.’

I remembered the missed call I’d deleted, and laughed. ‘That’s such an Ollie thing to do.’

‘It was,’ he agreed. ‘I’ll put you in touch with that illustrator, too.’

‘That would be good.’ Oh god, we were being polite now. ‘I’d better let you go.’

‘For now.’ Releasing my hand, he picked up Ollie’s trumpet case, and after one last look he left, closing the front door behind him.

I stayed rooted to the spot, staring at nothing, until the doorbell chimed and I nearly shot out of my skin.

‘I forgot something,’ Craig said, breathing hard, something green and leafy crushed in one hand. Behind him, Ollie and Erin were grinning at me from the car, and I could see Doris handing out muffins to the neighbours who were waiting to wave goodbye.

‘Your camera?’ I said, confused.

‘No, this.’ Stepping forward, he placed his lips on mine, and I had no hesitation in winding my arms around him and pulling him close, our bodies slotting together with perfect precision. We came up for air to the sound of cheering and a shout of ‘get a room’, and Craig’s arms tightened around my waist. ‘Ollie gave me his mistletoe and said I should make good use of it,’ he murmured.

‘I don’t really think we need it, do you?’

As he lowered his mouth to mine again, Erin hurried over to prise us apart.

‘Children are watching,’ she said. ‘Take Ollie home before he gets his trumpet out, and that’s not a euphemism.’

Craig gave me a long look and I knew he was reading in my eyes all the things I wanted to say. ‘I’ll be back,’ he promised, cupping my chin with his hand.

‘You’d better be,’ was all I could manage.

He jogged to the car and I joined Erin and the others at the gate to wave them off, happiness racing through me.

As they pulled away it started to snow, and the neighbours began drifting off with friendly goodbyes. Sheelagh dabbed her eyes as Barry led her next door with a tender arm around her shoulders, and Doris said she had to get home because her friend, Ellen Partridge, was coming over for lunch.

‘Well, that was intense,’ said Erin, when we were back inside. ‘What the hell’s happened to us?’

‘I don’t know, but I like it.’ I felt lighter than I had in a long time, and my face ached from smiling.

‘And who’s this little fellow?’

Marmite was on the arm of the sofa, calmly washing his paws.

‘Ah, that’s my inspiration for Sabrina the Magic Cat.’ I thought of how Marmite had alerted the Lamberts to the fire next door, probably saving their lives, and leading to Barry’s secret being revealed. ‘I think he might actually be magic,’ I said.

Erin pulled a face. ‘Enough of that shite. Let’s get dressed and go into town,’ she said, patting Marmite’s head. ‘I want to buy a wreath for your door from that flower stall I saw yesterday, and some bon-bons from the sweet shop, and maybe we can feed the seagulls.’

‘It’s illegal to feed the seagulls.’

‘You’re such a killjoy,’ she joked. ‘Maybe you can show me that castle where your brother once got lost.’

I grinned. ‘Sounds good,’ I said, remembering there was still something I had to do. ‘Just give me a few minutes.’

I found my phone in the kitchen and saw that I had a text.

Smiling, I saw they were still on the worktop, where I’d left them the day before, and as I picked them up and hooked them round my neck, I noticed they’d been lying on a sheet of crumpled paper. Pulling it forward, I went clammy as I recognised my handwriting. Jessica’s cupcakes were the envy of all her friends. ‘You should open your own café,’ her friend Craig Carl kept saying. He was the biggest fan of her baking and never stopped trying to encourage her— Oh god, he must have found my awful effort screwed up by the bin. ‘If you find a job you love, you’ll never work a day in your life,’ he was fond of saying… Craig had heavily underlined the quote in black ink, and surrounded it with arrows. Re-reading it, my eyes prickled with tears.

I replied, thinking how much Dad would have liked Craig. I could almost sense him with me, smiling his approval.

Wiping a hand over my eyes, I did what I’d intended to do since the night before, when the decision had slid into my head. I called a number I’d memorised without realising, my gaze moving to the window, where snowflakes were brushing against the glass.

Maybe we’d have a white Christmas this year, after all.

‘Jill?’ I said, when she picked up. ‘I’d like to accept the job.’

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