‘I did,’ said Cameron. ‘I think that day I met you – and you took a pie to the face for me – was a key moment. And I’d like to even things up. So if you want to get your revenge . . .’ He tilted his head at the custard pie.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Ros. She didn’t like mess.

‘Please.’ Cameron was giving her one of his looks that made her insides feel like they were full of jelly.

‘You want me to squish this in your face. And make us quits?’

‘Exactly.’ He closed his eyes and leaned forward.

‘Okay.’ She picked up the plate and stuck it in his face. The other diners in the restaurant broke into a mix of laughter, gasps and a round of applause. As Cameron wiped foam from his face Ros noticed there was something written on the bottom of the paper plate. She put it down so she could read it properly. You took a risk. Congratulations – you have won a date with Cameron DeFelice.

‘What is this?’ asked Ros, laughing.

‘You won a prize!’ he said. ‘A proper for real date with me.’

‘Will you be wearing the tutu?’ she asked.

‘Only if you want me to,’ he said with a grin.

‘I think perhaps we can lose that.’

‘Is that a yes to going on a date?’ he asked, seeming unsure.

‘It is.’

‘That’s good, because otherwise I’d feel like a fool when you saw the other side of the plate.’

Ros picked it up, turned it over and wiped off the remaining foam. Underneath it said – Ros Foster, I love you, signed Cameron DeFelice.

‘I know you like things to be official,’ he said. ‘Can I kiss you?’

Ros didn’t have to do a risk assessment for that one. ‘Definitely.’

He leaned across the table and their lips met. The restaurant diners burst into applause. When they pulled apart, Ros was distracted by someone tapping on the glass window behind them. There was Darla and Barry both giving her the thumbs up, while Gazza pawed at the glass in a desperate attempt to get to Cameron.

‘I’m guessing you had help with this,’ she said.

‘Yeah, just a bit,’ said Cameron as he waved them away and went in for another kiss.

Epilogue

One week later

The smell of the barbecue was filling the air at The Brambles and Darla was on tenterhooks waiting for her parents to arrive. It was a warm sunny day with enough breeze to ruffle the leaves in the trees and to make the goats slightly skittish. They loved their new activity centre; there was usually at least one of them on it unless there was food about, then that always took priority.

It was a little gathering of the friends Darla had amassed since she’d moved to Southampton and even she was quite surprised with how many people she knew and could now call her friends. There were lots of people from both her jobs, plus Ros, who was more like family now, so she’d invited her mum, dad and Gazza too. Gazza was busy tailing Elliott, like a little furry bodyguard, as he ferried food from the kitchen. Darla watched Elliott carrying the tray of meat. His muscles were showing nicely under his polo shirt. He was such a lovely man and she was so lucky to have him in her life.

If she could just explain everything to her parents without them wanting to disown her then it would all be perfect. Darla had set up the grill at the side of the house and now the charcoal was lit there were plumes of smoke coming off it and straight into Elliott’s face.

‘It’s a bit windy here so I’m going to move around to the back of the house,’ said Elliott.

‘No, you can’t,’ said Darla. ‘I’ve done kebabs.’

Elliott looked confused. ‘There’s space for everything.’

She pulled him a bit further around the side of the house. ‘They’re chicken kebabs,’ she whispered with a theatrical nod towards the back of the property.

Elliott grinned as realisation struck. ‘You’re worried about upsetting the hens?’

‘I’d be a bit traumatised if you slapped a human toe on there.’

‘I think everyone would be disturbed by that. Including the chickens,’ said Elliott. ‘Okay, how about I turn the barbecue so the smoke blows in the other direction?’

‘Great solution,’ she said, giving him a kiss. They were interrupted by the sound of car wheels on gravel and her stomach felt like it was full of stones.

Ros appeared. ‘I’ll keep an eye on everything here while you speak to them,’ she said, giving Darla a much-needed hug. ‘You’ve got this. And I’ve got you,’ she added.

Darla swallowed hard. ‘Thanks.’ She turned around, slapped on a smile and went to face the reckoning.

***

Ros went on tiptoes to look over the wall and watch Darla greet her parents who seemed impressed by the faded grandeur of The Brambles. She wished she could do more to help but this was something Darla had to do alone. All she could do was be there to support her whatever the outcome. She was fast learning that was what friends were for, and what an important lifeline they were. She felt familiar hands slide around her waist as Cameron hugged her from behind, his hair and then his face appearing at her shoulder. ‘Has the firing squad arrived?’ he asked.

‘Don’t say that! I hope she’s okay. And them too to be fair. It’ll be a bit of a shock. They think she’s been sailing the seven seas trying exotic cuisine when she’s been here living off discounted food from the 7-Eleven.’

‘Come on, get a sausage while they’re hot,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘Elliott is also a Doctor Who fan. Seems like a top bloke to me.’

‘He’s making Darla happy so that’s all that matters.’

‘I hope I can do the same,’ he said.

Ros raised her eyebrows.

‘With you I mean. Not Darla,’ he clarified.

‘Well recovered.’ They joined the small queue for food behind Barry and Amanda. Ros had queried Darla’s suggestion to invite her mother, but Darla argued that there was safety in numbers and that Ros should make a bigger effort to spend time with Amanda. The tides were changing and Ros was starting to feel differently about her mother. Their chat on the yacht and Ros’s own dilemma over the job opportunity had helped her to at least understand a little better the situation her mother had been faced with. They were very different people but they were slowly getting to know each other.

‘I like your top,’ said Amanda.

‘Thank you. Cameron has a better eye for casual attire than I do,’ said Ros.

‘Should the dog not be on a lead?’ Amanda asked Barry.

‘No, he’s fine. He can’t get out of the garden,’ said Barry.

Gazza was busy patrolling the line. He barked when he reached Cameron, even though he’d already greeted him a number of times already. Unfortunately his bark was quite sharp and a lady who had just had a selection of barbecue food added to her plate jumped and lost her sausage. Gazza was on it like a seagull after a chip. Despite its temperature the sausage disappeared in a matter of seconds and Gazza was already looking around for the next one.

‘Whoops,’ said Barry quietly to Ros and Cameron as if trying not to out himself as Gazza’s owner. He spotted them holding hands. ‘Hey, look at you two back together.’