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It was just her and Daniel in the shop. Shay had left earlier for a bike ride around the hills before the snow had a chance to settle. Felix had been at home all day resting on doctor’s orders. Word was that Mrs Jingleman was resting with him.

‘I’m proud of you,’ said Daniel, rolling his shirt sleeves down and collapsing into a comfy chair. ‘You sold books like a badass today, and the shop wasn’t even open. Including those dusty ones you’ve been clinging to since the days of flapper dresses.’

‘Hey, I’m not that old,’ she replied, ruffling his hair before jumping to sit on the counter near the buffet. There was a plate of brie and cranberry crackers with her name on it.

Noémi had wondered if she might sob when she finally handed over the antiquarian books to the collector – but letting go had felt good. She imagined them going off to find new homes and brave adventures, and to be loved again. Though if she said that to Daniel, he’d probably say they were just bits of old tree.

‘They could have gone up in flames yesterday,’ she said quietly, still struggling to think about it. ‘Maybe being cooped up in here wasn’t the best thing for them.’

Their eyes instinctively travelled to Wanderer’s shelf.

‘Wait. Did somebody steal your fish?’ Daniel gasped in overexaggerated horror.

Noémi giggled. ‘Shay’s looking after Wanderer. I’ll get her back tomorrow.’

‘You trusted him with your Carassius auratus?’

‘If that’s a posh phrase for goldfish, then yes. Temporarily. I mean, it felt safer than the threat of smoke inhalation. Have you been reading books with big words again?’

‘Urgh, they’re everywhere in this place,’ Daniel joked, flapping a hand.

The corners of Noémi’s mouth twitched into a sad smile. She loved having Daniel here, but now and then, she was reminded that books were not his soul place. He and Asher had once had their travel agency business. Would he ever go back to that?

‘I’m proud of you too,’ Noémi said softly. ‘You seem to be taking small steps to move on, even though we knew this time of year would be tricky.’ She let the words settle in the lamp-lit air between them.

Daniel reached for his half-empty mug of mulled wine. ‘I’m not ready ready. Tommaso might just be a flirtation. Grief is just love with nowhere to go, so the books tell me.’ He blinked a few times as though he was not going to cry on his good shirt. ‘My love isn’t about to get bestowed upon a cute Italian any time soon. But it makes my heart feel good to think that one day, it could be possible.’

‘Oh God.’ There was no way Noémi could keep her sob in. She allowed it to bubble up her throat, her eyes feeling relief as a few tears escaped her.

‘Bloody hell, is the brie that bad?’ Daniel hopped up to rub her back.

‘The cheese is exactly as cheesy as it should be,’ Noémi confirmed, when she’d managed to get her sniffling under control. ‘And you need to stop reading sad stuff and get out more.’

‘Now I know that’s the spicy wine talking. In all seriousness though.’ Daniel straightened Noémi’s fringe and wiped a stray, mascara-filled tear. ‘I’m so sorry about sneaking out of the shop to see Tommaso. I’d followed him into Shay’s a couple of times when I should have been working. That’s why Shay knew me.’

‘It’s fine.’ Noémi waved a hand.

‘It’s not though, is it? It could have ended in The Great Fire of Hazel View Avenue. Shit, maybe it was a message from my husband on high that I should not be chasing after hot brunettes.’ His gaze drifted upwards.

‘No, it is not,’ Noémi said firmly. ‘Asher would have wanted you to move on. To live. To love. To not be afraid.’ She reached forward and squeezed Daniel’s hands. ‘And he would have liked Tommaso.’

‘Yes, I think he would,’ Daniel said quietly. Then he raised his eyebrows. ‘Is this where I say you should take a leaf out of your own book?’

‘And what about your hunky fireman!’

‘Changing the subject much?’ Daniel gave her a light elbow dig and returned to his chair with a mince pie topped with weird-looking jam. ‘Anyway, he’s straight, so I’ll have to keep him as a fantasy,’ he said wistfully.

‘Hell, now you’re turning into me.’ Noémi leaned back over the counter to grab her tablet. ‘Which reminds me. I haven’t touched base with Fantasy Man since the fire.’ She pressed the power button.

‘Touching base, huh? Is that what you kids get up to online.’ His laugh was a dirty one.

‘It is not that sort of relationship, and you know it.’ She’d definitely encountered guys online who were keen to share pics of their groin area. But she liked that her relationship with Fantasy Man was flirty but chaste.

She clicked onto the Never the Twain app and was happy to see a message from the evening before.

Fantasy Man:

How are you this evening? Sorry I’m later than usual – busy day here. I think I’ll sleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. In case I nod off before I speak to you, sweet dreams. X