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‘Yes, thank you.’

‘I’ll just be in the living room. Shout if you need me.’ She shot one more disapproving look at the man in the doorway.

Angela looked him over herself, noting that he looked tired. And different . . . His hair was shorter and neater, and he was wearing the thick, padded coat he usually wore when working in her yard, rather than the smart one he usually favoured. ‘Hi.’ She wasn’t sure what else to say.

‘Hi.’ The smile he gave her shot warmth through to her stomach, and her traitor knees felt weak and wobbly. Mentally, she scolded her body for still reacting to him. She also cursed the hideous Christmas jumper she was wearing — decorated with woodland creatures wearing Christmas hats — and the tinsel and holly in her hair, before reminding herself that she wasn’t interested in him, and therefore didn’t care what he thought.

‘Did you need something?’ She kept it curt, polite. That was all he was getting.

‘I was hoping we could talk. Just for a few minutes. There’s something I really want to tell you.’

‘If it’s about Yvette and the baby, then I already know. Jake and Evelyn told me. I’m sorry she hurt you so badly.’

‘I’m more sorry that you got hurt. And that I responded so badly and hurt you. Because there’s something I really need to tell you — something else — and I’d really, really like it if you would listen.’

‘OK.’ She nodded.

‘Thank you, Angel.’ He smiled when she grimaced. ‘As much as you don’t like it when I call you that, you really are an angel. Especially to me. I didn’t know how messed up I was until I met you. I don’t think there was ever really anyone whose opinion I cared about enough to want to change. There was never anyone who made me feel like I was less than worthy before. Until I came here.’

‘I never meant to make you feel that way . . . And I’m sorry if I did.’

‘It’s OK. I needed to change, I just didn’t know it. But you, and that stupid, half-naked bald chicken-butt . . . you make me feel like I want to be a better person. Because it made me feel like, if I tried hard enough, I might actually feel like I was worth the trust and affection I’d been given from you both.’

‘Mallow really does love you.’ She’d focus on the bird — it was easier than thinking about her own feelings.

‘Yeah, but her brain is only as big as a walnut.’ He grinned when Angela glared at him. ‘Which, I’m aware probably means she uses more brain cells on a regular basis than I do in a week.’ He watched her for a reaction.

But she only continued to glare. ‘If you’re waiting for me to argue with you, you’d best not hold your breath. I’m not sure I could be bothered to pick you up off the floor.’

‘What you think of me matters more than anything. After I came here, for the first time in years, I took a long, hard look at myself, and I discovered that I didn’t want to be what I was. I was fed up playing Maverick, and I wanted to be Ryan again, the real version of me — and it’s you who made me feel like that. When I told you I was falling for you, it wasn’t the whole truth.’

‘I think we’ve had more than enough lies lately.’ She looked away.

‘Give me a chance, please, in the spirit of Christmas? Just hear me out.’ He waited for her nod. ‘It wasn’t the whole truth because I’m not falling, Angela . . . I’ve already fallen for you — completely, totally and besottedly. There’s no falling, no chance of catching myself — not that I’d want to — because I’m already completely and totally in love with you. And I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, or with any hope that you might reciprocate my feelings. I’m just telling you so you understand why I’ve done what I’ve done. And so you understand that there’s no expectation or obligation on you at all.’

‘What have you done?’ She stared at him suspiciously.

‘I got you something for Christmas.’

‘There’s nothing I want from you.’

‘I thought you might say that.’ This time his smile was sad and filled with regret. ‘But it’s not really for you. It’s for them. And it’s too late for you to say no, because it’s already done.’

‘Them who?’

‘Them, your animals.’ He handed her a large, lightweight box tied with ribbons. ‘Except for this one.’ The next parcel was larger and flatter, but still surprisingly light. ‘But it’s not really from me. It’s from Mallow.’

‘You expect me to believe your cockatoo bought me a gift?’

‘No. She made it. I just helped a bit . . . and wrapped it.’

‘Right.’ Angela shook her head, not sure what to say or do.

‘Merry Christmas, Angela.’ He stuffed his hands into his pockets. ‘And I really do mean that. I’ll let you get back to your life now.’ He turned slowly, then headed back down the garden path, leaving her standing in the doorway, starting to shiver while clutching two parcels she wasn’t sure what to do with. She took them back into the kitchen and put them on the table, where they sat innocently, totally unaware of the turmoil they were causing. Part of her wanted to tear them to pieces and lob them in the bin. But part of her was curious too — to know what gifts were inside the bright wrappers, and what he’d meant with the cryptic comments.

‘Are you going to open them, or shall I move them so we can crack on?’ Her mum watched her closely. ‘I don’t think they’re going to bite. At least, not as badly as some of your guests.’

‘He said the box is for them. My residents, I mean.’