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I don’t know if he has, but saying so instantly makes me feel welcomed.

‘All good, I hope,’ I joke.

‘Mostly,’ Ivy teases.

He comes over to shake my hand.

‘Nice to meet you.’

‘You too,’ I reply.

‘I’d stay and chat, but I’ve got a meeting,’ he says. ‘Apparently someone thinks the cottages need hot tubs.’

‘They do,’ Ivy insists. ‘Lia, help me out, tell him how much guests would love to sit out in a hot tub, even in the cold…’

‘That does sound lovely,’ I say – it really does.

‘I will never understand the fascination with what is essentially a family bathtime,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘But what the lady wants…’

He leans in and kisses her on the cheek before he goes. It’s such a small thing, so ordinary and unshowy, but the way Ivy looks at him makes my heart ache.

There is so much love in her eyes. It must be nice, to have someone – someone who not only makes you feel loved, but doesn’t hide it from the world.

Seb gives me another quick smile before disappearing through the back.

‘He seems great,’ I say.

‘He is,’ Ivy replies, smiling in the direction he walked. Then she turns back to me. ‘Anyway. You. Sit down. I want to know everything.’

She leads me through to a small seating area near the back of the shop, where there are two armchairs beside a perfectly decorated fireplace.

She disappears briefly before returning with two lattes and a plate of mince pies.

‘Isn’t it too early for mince pies?’ I ask.

‘Er, look around you,’ she jokes. ‘In this shop? Never.’

She hands me one then sits opposite me, tucking her legs beneath her.

‘So,’ she says gently. ‘You’re back. For good, or for now?’

‘I’m not sure,’ I confess.

‘How’s your mum?’ she asks.

‘Driving me mad.’

Ivy smiles, but suddenly I feel awful. I’m sure she would give anything to have her mum around, driving her mad.

‘You would think I had just come out of a coma, rather than moved back from London,’ I continue. ‘Although that may have something to do with how I left.’

‘What happened?’ she asks.

I stare down at the mince pie in my hand. I could lie. I’m quite good at lying by omission. I could say the job didn’t work out, or that I fancied a change, or that I missed the sea… But this is Ivy. I feel like I could tell her anything, even after all these years.

‘Everything went wrong at once,’ I say. ‘I was seeing someone. My boss, actually.’

Her eyebrows lift slightly, but she doesn’t interrupt.