‘You’re already thinking long-term then,’ said Barry, seeming surprised.

‘Yes,’ said Ros firmly.

‘I’m sorry, Cameron, if I was rude,’ said Barry. ‘But Ros here is very special to me. I think dads and daughters have a unique bond and her being an only one just intensifies my protective nature.’

‘I understand. No apology needed. I hope I’m the same when I’m a dad.’

Ros could not believe it. Cameron had walked straight into the children conversation. Had he not paid any attention during their flip chart session?

‘You want kids?’ asked Barry with a quizzical look on his face.

‘Definitely,’ said Cameron.

Barry gave Ros the side-eye. ‘Before you say anything, Dad. Yes, we’ve discussed this and Cameron knows how I feel about children. I think it’s time for pudding.’

Cameron hastily replaced his cutlery as Ros whisked his plate away and stormed out. This was not going well. Ros plonked the plates down on the worktop and was startled when Cameron appeared with the gravy boat. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked in hushed tones.

‘What’s the matter?’ Ros was incredulous and struggled to keep her voice to a whisper. ‘You went off piste. Like not even a little bit off into fresh snow. This was skiing with abandon through loads of trees and into a car park.’

‘What?’

‘I took the skiing analogy too far. My point is Dad now thinks you’re a gold digger so he’s going to be worried about who I’m with instead of happy I’m not alone. This was a bad idea. I might have to murder Darla.’

‘Calm down,’ said Cameron. ‘I think you’re overreacting,’ he added as she started to pace around the kitchen.

‘Do you not see that we’ve made the situation worse?’

‘How?’

‘Either we carry on with this charade in which case he thinks I’ve hooked up with Amber Rose—’

‘Who?’ asked Cameron.

‘Famous gold digger. Dated Kanye West,’ said Ros.

Cameron shook his head.

‘Anyway, if we split up then he’ll die thinking I’ve had my heart broken.’

Cameron was looking over her shoulder. ‘But that’s not going to happen because we’re rock solid.’

‘What are you t—’ Ros didn’t get to finish the sentence because Cameron swooped in and kissed her.

Chapter Eleven

Darla usually had to be up early for her cleaning job that started at six thirty in the middle of Southampton but she did object to a five o’clock wake-up call on a rare day off midweek. She pulled the duvet over her head but the rooster was in full voice. A grumpy Darla stomped downstairs and put the kettle on. She moved the pile of library books she’d picked up to one side and put Keeping Chickens For Dummies on the bottom just in case Elliott stopped by. After a coffee and a long hot bath in the biggest bath she’d ever been in she felt slightly more human. She filled her jugs and went out to feed the animals. She did her usual trick of chucking the food and running. As she bolted from the goat pen and only narrowly missed a pair of horns up her bum she almost ran straight into Elliott.

‘Blimey, you gave me a start. Good morning,’ she said.

‘What are you doing?’ Elliott pointed at the goats who were merrily munching through the food.

‘Feeding the animals.’

‘They don’t eat that,’ said Elliott.

Darla waved a jug at the greedy goats. ‘I think that proves that they do.’

‘I mean they’re not meant to be eating wheat.’

Darla was puzzled. She figured they’d only eat what they liked. ‘Who eats the wheat then?’

‘The geese, but you have to put it in the bucket of water?’

Was he winding her up? This was all sounding a bit complicated and she’d not read any of this in her library books although she had mainly been looking at the pictures and trying to skim-read them. They weren’t the most riveting reads. ‘Why would I put their food in water?’

‘It stops the rats and mice eating it.’

‘Ahh that’s clever. Eek, rats?’ Darla hopped from one foot to the other whilst scanning the ground for any sign of vermin.

Elliott exhaled heavily. She got the feeling he was despairing with her. ‘They mainly emerge at dusk and they move about most at night-time.’

Darla gave an elaborate shudder. ‘Are there many of them?’ But she immediately held up her palm, making Elliott pull his head back. ‘Don’t tell me – I don’t want to know.’ She took a moment to calm herself. ‘Okay. I put the wheat in the water for the geese. What should I feed the ducks?’

‘They eat the pellets.’

‘Yay, I got something right.’ She carried on quickly before Elliott pointed out that she’d actually given all the animals some of the pellets. ‘And the goats. What should I feed them?’

Elliott was scratching his head. ‘Do you know anything about animals?’

‘Rude. And yes, I am well versed in many types of animals but mainly the domesticated kind.’

Elliott smirked. ‘These are domesticated.’

Darla threw up her arms. ‘I know you’re winding me up. I won’t be letting them inside the house. I’m not that daft.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Back to the goats, what do they eat?’

‘Hay,’ he said and he strolled away.

Hay? ‘Hang on!’ she called and she bounded after him. ‘I don’t have much hay.’ She’d used most of it for beds for the chickens. How was she to know it was goat food? ‘I’m expecting a food delivery sometime next week but those guys are going to need some to tide them over.’

Elliott stopped walking. ‘And?’

‘And . . . as my lovely new neighbour I thought you might be able to help me out.’ Darla beamed him her best smile.

Elliott harrumphed. ‘Hay doesn’t come free you know.’

‘I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.’

Elliott looked shocked and then Darla realised her mistake. ‘Oh no, no, no. I wasn’t offering sex in exchange for hay.’ Elliott’s eyebrows shot up even higher. ‘I wasn’t meaning to offer sex at all. I meant eggs. I have lots of eggs. Not my eggs. Chickens’ eggs! The hens are like machines. I’ll swap eggs for hay. Deal?’ She held her hand out and he glared at it.