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‘I didn’t just mean the story.’

‘I know.’ Liv forced herself to meet his gaze. ‘Talk about “out of the mouths of babes” and all that.’

‘So, what do you think about it?’ Callum’s face was unreadable.

Liv took a deep breath. The truth was, she didn’t know what to think about everything. She’d been doing her best to avoid thinking about the situation, because that was less painful than facing reality, or thinking about the future. She had barely even admitted her feelings to herself, unable to contemplate them because if she didn’t think about them, it felt like they might be less real. And that they would be able to hurt her less. At least, that was what she kept telling herself. It was easier that than admitting how she felt, and risking tearing her heart open for the sake of the few days or weeks that she might have left in the village.

‘Liv? Did you hear me?’ His eyes burned into her and flooded her with his usual warmth.

‘I think we need to talk.’

Callum nodded.

‘But if it’s all right, I’d like to read Sarah her story first.’

‘Of course.’ Callum nodded again. ‘Then, when she’s asleep, we can talk.’

Liv nodded, and headed towards the stairs, wondering if Sarah was too young for The Complete Works of Shakespeare. At least if she read a few rounds of the bard, she’d buy herself a bit more time to think.

* * *

Callum tiptoed along his own landing, feeling silly and sneaky as he did so, but he was drawn down the corridor by soft murmurs and giggles. As silly as it was, even in his own head, he didn’t want to miss anything or feel left out. So he stepped carefully over the creaky floorboard and leaned against the doorframe. Sarah was tucked up in her bed, and Liv sat beside her, with her feet tucked under Sarah’s duvet, and her arm around the little girl. The scene was so cosy that he held back, not wanting to disturb them.

He listened as the story came to its end, and the beautiful princess headed off into the sunset with her new best friend — the dragon who had realised the error of its ways and apologised to all — leaving the prince to return to his castle. While Callum appreciated the sentiment and idea of encouraging little girls to stand on their own feet instead of waiting for a prince to sweep them off them, he did always feel a bit sad for the prince: instead of heading off to happy ever after, he was left standing alone. It was just a little too close to his own life for comfort.

After a few moments, Liv closed the book and carefully wriggled her arm away from Sarah, leaving the little girl resting on her pillow and apparently asleep. With gentle movements, Liv pulled the covers around Sarah, and leaned over to turn off her lamp.

‘Goodnight, Sarah.’ Liv’s voice was hushed and low. ‘Dream sweet.’

‘Night, night, Livvy.’ Sarah’s voice was thick with sleep. ‘Love you.’

Liv froze for a second before she leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the top of Sarah’s head. ‘I love you too, Sarey-fairy.’

Callum froze as the words washed over him, flushing adrenaline through his veins that made his fingers tingle. He wasn’t sure what worried him more: that Sarah had clearly gotten so much closer to Liv than he’d realised, or the way Liv had replied.

He watched as Liv’s shadowy form reached out to smooth Sarah’s hair, and tuck her in more tightly. Callum backed away, hating that he felt like he was intruding in his own house, and with his own daughter, but at the same time he didn’t want Liv to see him and think he was spying on her. He stepped back hastily, but his haste and the semi-darkness combined to disorientate him and he creaked across the loose floorboard.

He looked up, and Liv’s eyes met his and pinned him to the spot as she smiled softly at him, her features picked out in shadow against the gentle glow of Sarah’s nightlight. His breath caught in his throat as she stepped towards him, pausing to pull the door closed to the exact position that Sarah preferred. Had Liv really been there so often as to notice, or was it just coincidence? It was basically that thought which tortured him most of the time; there were so many moments, so many gestures that could be interpreted as her really caring. But at the same time, he could just be seeing what he wanted to see, and setting himself and Sarah up for more hurt.

And it would really, really, really hurt.

But he didn’t have any choice. ‘Liv, we need to talk. Downstairs?’

She nodded and followed him to the living room.

‘You know, there’s not many good conversation topics that start with the words “we need to talk”, don’t you?’ She still kept her voice low, but even the soft whisper carried her worry to him. His heartbeat stepped up at the look on her face. He didn’t ever want to cause her worry or pain, but her concern gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t alone in struggling to keep things casual.

‘Come on.’ He held out his hand, hoping that she was wrong, and that it would be one of the rare, good conversations.

* * *

Liv let him lead her down the stairs, unsure of what to think. Her mind raced as her feet dragged. Callum had obviously seen her when she was in Sarah’s room, but had he heard her too? She had replied to Sarah without thinking. The words “I love you too” had slipped out before she’d even realised that she’d thought them: her automatic reply to Sarah’s sleepy declaration.

The words surprised her, but less than the realisation that she wouldn’t take them back, even if she could. She really did love the little girl who dressed as a fairy, brought her cupcakes when she was upset, and taught her about fairy magic and wishing wells while leaving trails of sequins and glitter across her floors. But it was more than that, Liv realised. Sarah’s glitter and love for life had helped patch over the cracks in her heart. And, if it was true that Sarah had patched her up, then Callum was certainly the one who had zapped her heart into beating properly again.

The thought thrilled and terrified her in equal measure. She hadn’t come to Broclington intending to find anything other than a rest, and a chance to escape and plan for her new life. She hadn’t expected . . . whatever it was she and Callum had become. She didn’t want to even think the word: it was much easier to love a bright, happy, innocent little girl than it was a grown man who could hurt her so badly. But, whether she liked it or not, now the thought was in her head she didn’t know how to bury it again.

And if she was honest with herself, she was already so far into the summersault of falling head over heels that there was no way she could abort the twisting aerobatics and land without pain, and with her dignity intact.