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Forty-five minutes later, I run my eye over my notes one last time. “Perfect. I’ll send the updated proposal over in the next few days so everything we’ve agreed today is in writing. I’ll be in touch with the venue to sort out access and setup, then I’ll give you a ring two weeks beforehand to run through the final schedule. But if anything comes up between now and the big day—anything at all, no matter how small or daft it feels—phone me. It’s no bother, and I would genuinely rather have six phone calls than one surprise on the day.”

“Thank you for being so on top of everything,” Lizzie says.

“Aye.” Darren reaches for Lizzie’s hand and brushes his thumb across her engagement ring. “Means we’ve got one less thing to worry about.”

Lizzie turns her hand in his and laces their fingers together. They look at each other, and for a moment they seem to forget I’m there.

I return my attention to my notes. The little pang beneath my ribs isn’t jealousy. It’s…I don’t know what it is. But definitely not jealousy.

I see them out. About forty seconds later, the bell jingles again.

“Only me!” Mum calls. Her reading glasses are pushed up into her curls and she’s wearing a lanyard around her neck. “I had a bit of time between lectures, so I thought I’d go for a walk and pop in to see you. Can’t stay long, though.”

Mum is a lecturer in English literature, part time since Innes’s accident. She’s already moving along the buckets, touching things. “Oh, these are gorgeous. What are they?”

“Ranunculus. Please don’t squeeze them.”

“I wasn’t going to squeeze them!” She gives one a tiny squeeze. “How are things? Have you been keeping your distance from that new neighbour?”

Emmy’s head comes up from the desk arrangement she’s working on. “Hiya, Kathy!” Then, with relish: “Actually⁠—”

I catch her eye. Shake my head. Mum doesn’t need to know about the encounter with Ryan. I don’t want to have to go through it all over again, and anyway, Mum already worries about Innes far more than he needs her to. I don’t want her worrying about me too. It’s only a parking space.

“Everything’s fine,” I assure Mum. “All good here.”

“Good. Well, I’ve booked Bertoni’s for your birthday. You’ve asked Emmy along, haven’t you?”

“She has,” Emmy says, tucking another stem into place without looking up. “Now I just need to talk her into coming out with me afterwards.”

“What a wonderful idea,” Mum says.

I look between them suspiciously. Have they planned this?

“I’ve already had this conversation with both of you,” I say. “I don’t like going out. And that week is a busy one for us.”

“Is it?” Emmy says.

“Yes. Well, every week is busy, so…”

“Your birthday is on a Saturday,” Mum points out. “The shop’s shut on Sundays. Let your hair down for a change! You’ve the rest of your life to be sensible. You only turn twenty-five once.”

They’re not going to quit, are they? Sometimes it’s easiest just to cave.

I let out a long breath. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Emmy’s head comes up again.

“I’ll go out—but to a pub. Somewhere with chairs, where you can actually hear the person you’re talking to. Not a club.”

“I can work with that.” Emmy grins. “Leave it with me. I’ll pick somewhere fun.”

“Excellent,” Mum says, far too pleased with herself. “That’s settled, then.” She checks her watch. “And now I have to go.” She kisses my cheek and hurries out.

I turn back to Emmy. “Define ‘fun’,” I say.

She winks at me. I don’t like that wink.

CHAPTER SEVEN