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‘I was consoling him.' I grab onto his arm. ‘Please let me explain as far as I can.'

‘Ha ha,' Lewis says with sarcasm. ‘Very original. Jack was upset so I gave him a hug and snogged his face off.'

‘I hugged him, but it was for a good reason.'

‘Yeah, this one – you're cheating on me.' To my alarm, his lip begins to tremble.

‘Of course I'm not. I can't tell you why. It's confidential.'

‘And I suppose the reason your ex-husband is always hanging around in the shop is confidential too?' He hugs his chest.

‘Look, I shouldn't say any more, but since you clearly won't believe me unless I do – it's to do with work. As you know, Tessa is pregnant.'

‘And?'

‘Please don't ask me any more.'

‘Come on, you can tell me.'

‘I can't, and if you're unable to respect that then . . .'

‘Then what? Go on,' he says. ‘I knew you were going to dump me. I knew I wasn't good enough for you.'

‘Oh for God's sake, I'm really fond of you, but . . .' I pinch myself to stop the tears that threaten to overflow. ‘It's you I want to be with, not Jack, not Paul, not anyone else, but I can't be in a relationship with someone who doesn't trust me.'

‘And I can't be with someone who gives me reason to be suspicious.'

I take a step back, put my hands behind my back and take a grip on the edge of the worktop.

‘What are we going to do? I can't be dealing with all this drama – I have enough of it at work.' I bite my lip as he gazes at me. I don't flinch. I have nothing to hide and nothing to feel guilty about. ‘If our relationship is like this now, what will it be like in six months, a year? I'm sorry for not being completely straight with you. I regret that. I should have known it would come back to bite me on the bum.' I shrug. ‘As far as I can see, we have a choice. If you decide you can't bring yourself to forgive me . . .'

‘Oh dear . . .' His expression softens. ‘I'm being a bit of a prat, aren't I?'

‘I've been stupid too.' I should have guessed Lewis would be slightly paranoid about me seeing other men. His reaction is only natural.

He steps towards me and sweeps me into his arms.

‘I can see you're telling the truth. I don't want to lose you over some silly misunderstanding.'

I look up, letting my fingers play with the collar of his polo shirt, and give him a small smile of relief. ‘I think that was our first row,' I murmur. Which is good, because it means our relationship is genuine and means just as much to him as it does to me.

When we finally return downstairs, Paul has gone and Gran is behind the counter, talking to Granddad's photo as if nothing has happened.

We spend the next evening making up and, afterwards, Lewis suggests I bring Frosty up to the farm.

‘Are you sure?' I say.

‘It's time we tried to sort the dog issue out. Neither of us has much time off – at least, not at the same time, and not being able to walk the dogs together or having to keep driving back to the farm to let the collies out is a pain in the neck.'

‘Sometimes it feels as if Frosty's running my life,' I admit, ‘but I'd rather keep them apart.'

‘We can't do that for ever. She could go on for another twelve years yet. That's a lot of inconvenience.'

‘If we should stay together that long,' I point out.

Lewis grins. ‘You're such an old pessimist. Who knows what will happen?'

‘I thought owning a dog was supposed to be fun, not an ordeal. What you're saying makes sense, though. We can't go on like this, but I'm scared of what Miley and Frosty might do to each other.' My lip quivers as I picture them tearing each other apart. ‘Frosty's been better with other dogs since she came back from
Otter House, but that doesn't mean she'll be any, less offensive to Miley.'

‘We'll supervise, and make sure there's no food involved,' Lewis continues. ‘If there's any sign of aggression between the two girls, we'll separate them again.'

He's convinced me to give it a try, but it is with some trepidation that I take Frosty up to the farm the following evening. When I pull into the farmyard, Lewis comes out of the annexe to greet me.

‘Anyone would think you'd been waiting for me,' I say, smiling, as I get out of the car.

‘I've been waiting all day,' he says, reaching out and pulling me close. I throw my arms around his neck and we kiss passionately until Frosty utters a whine of impatience.

‘Are you sure about this?' I ask him.

‘This,' he murmurs, holding me tighter against his long, lithe body, ‘or the dogs?'

I take some time to answer, enjoying the contact. ‘What do you think?'

‘I'll make sure I keep Miley under control,' he says. ‘I can't say the same for myself, though . . .'

‘Later,' I say, giving him a gentle shove. ‘Come on, let's go for a stroll before it rains.'

We walk the dogs with Miley and Frosty on leads, taking them into one of the fields so they have plenty of space not to feel threatened. Lewis and I sit down on the grass a few feet apart and let the dogs choose whether or not to make an approach. In the end it's Frosty who goes first – a good sign, I think, because it
suggests she isn't completely terrified of Miley, who freezes as she sniffs at her nose.

‘Chill, Zara,' Lewis says quietly.

Miley moves along Frosty's side, arching her back and holding her tail upright. The fur on her scruff stands up on end, as do the hairs on the back of my neck. Frosty bows and wags her tail, and Miley bows in return, uttering a yap as if to say, ‘Let's play.'

‘They'll be okay,' Lewis says, getting up to let both dogs off their leads.

I sit back, breathing a sigh of relief as the two girls chase around at speed, Frosty's long legs soon overtaking Miley. Mick joins in, another potential flashpoint, but he can't keep up with them, dropping back to sit with Lewis while waiting for their return.

‘That couldn't have gone any better,' Lewis says when we're back in the annexe. ‘They cleared the air with that fight they had before. I know it will take a long time to trust them when there's food around, but we can at least walk them together and have them in the same room.' He sits down on the sofa and I sink down beside him.

‘Do you realise this has been my first full day off in four weeks?' Lewis says.

‘I do – I've hardly seen you.' It's all very well finding a man at last, but it isn't so great when you can't actually spend time with him because you're both so busy.

‘I'm sorry,' he says ruefully. ‘Your brother-in-law is a slave-driver and I need the money. The shearing's done, I've moved sheep, vaccinated sheep, trimmed
hundreds of sheep feet . . .' He sighs as he rests his arm around my shoulder. ‘I even count sheep in my sleep.'

‘What are you going to do next?'

He kisses me. ‘I don't know. I had a call back about the position in Wiltshire.'

‘The permanent one?' I wish he was permanently in my life. I wish I had a thousand sheep so I could give him a job.

‘Yes, that one. They turned me down,' he says flatly.

‘You're disappointed?'

‘Of course I am – they said they didn't think I'd fit in, that I was too young. It was perfect for me, except for it being a hundred miles away from Talyton St George – and you. So I guess it's for the best in a way.'

‘You lead a precarious existence. I'm glad I have a steady job – I can't imagine not knowing what I'll be doing or where I'll be from week to week.' I don't say it, but I'm also very happy he isn't making a permanent move. I'm not sure about a long-distance relationship. ‘What are you going to do?'

‘Keep looking. Something will come up.'

‘Where will you live?'

‘I don't know. I could move back in with Mum and Dad for a while – if they'll have me. I could come and see you, if you'd like me to.'

I turn my body towards him and slide my hands up around his neck. ‘Of course I want you to. I don't want you to go away.'

Having spent two evenings in succession with Lewis,
I'm hoping we're both free on the third one, although we're going to confirm later. In the meantime, I have a long shift at work. At the surgery, I have a booking-in appointment and three others before a home antenatal visit and a clinic down at Talymouth. Claire catches me before I start.

‘How are you?' she says brightly.

‘Good, thanks. You?'

‘I'm a bit frazzled, as usual. I need to speak to you before you see your first one.'

‘Can I catch up with you in a sec?' I say, because Ben is waving me into his consulting room for a planned update about one of my young mums-to-be who came in to see him with gestational diabetes a couple of days before.

‘Yes, but promise me you'll come and find me before you call in your first appointment.'

‘All right. I will,' I say, but as it turns out, by the time I've spoken to Ben, Claire is already tied up redressing a leg ulcer. Too late, I think, as I scan the waiting room for women of child-bearing age. There is only one, and I can see now why Claire was so keen to give me advance warning, because my heart misses a beat as I register that she's sitting holding hands with Paul, which can mean only one thing. OMG! Is this for real? I clear my throat.

‘Katie,' I say. ‘I'm Zara. Come through.'

‘I'll come in with you, darling,' Paul says, making a show of being the perfect boyfriend. ‘I'm glad it's you, Zara. Katie, she's the best you can have.'

Katie appears a little embarrassed at being seen
by her boyfriend's ex-wife, and so she should be, I think. I'm devastated and furious at being put in this situation, and I can't understand why she allowed Paul to recommend she booked an appointment with me when she could so easily have had one with Kelly.

Paul shows Katie to a chair, his arm on her waist, as if she can't possibly identify a chair by herself. ‘Let me have your bag,' he adds, taking it from her.

She's much younger than he is – twenty-one, according to her notes, so I don't know why I've been worrying about the age gap between me and Lewis. She's about the same height as Paul, slim and gorgeous in a supermodel kind of way, with long, lustrous dark hair and immaculate nails. I can deal with that, and the fact that Paul is clearly besotted with her, but I can hardly bring myself to look at the tiny baby bump that sits neatly beneath her light summer top.

I take a deep breath and go through my list of questions as I normally do.

I ask about Katie's occupation, my inner bitch hoping she's going to say she's unemployed, but she isn't. She's a beauty therapist and masseuse and works at a local spa – she and Paul met when she called an ambulance for one of her clients who'd fallen off a treatment table, dislocating their shoulder.

‘It was love at first sight,' Paul smiles.

‘Have you been pregnant before, Katie?' I continue.

‘I had a termination when I was eighteen,' she says without a flicker of emotion, which I find hard to forgive.

‘This baby wasn't planned,' Paul says proudly. ‘It just happened.'

Look at me, look at what a stud I am, is what he's really saying, with that stupid grin on his face. I'm struggling not to tell him what I think. He could have at least given me some warning, time to prepare myself, or even asked me whether or not I was happy to be his girlfriend's midwife.

‘I'm pleased for you both,' I say, but I really don't mean it. ‘Now, Katie, I'd like you to pop on the scales to check your weight before I measure your bump.'

When I check her weight, Paul comments rather critically that she's put on a few pounds recently. It's what he used to do to me, and I'm so glad we're not together any more.

‘That's what tends to happen when you're pregnant,' I say in her defence, ‘although you shouldn't start eating for two just yet.' I write some notes in her pregnancy record book. ‘You'll have a scan in two weeks' time and another appointment with me after that. Do you have any questions?'

‘I'm going to have the baby in hospital, because I prefer the idea of having the baby by Caesarean rather than naturally,' she says. ‘Can you add that to my notes?'

‘We don't just say, yes, have a C-section. There are risks involved with surgery, just as there are with a natural birth. Have you really thought this through?' I don't think Katie sounds too posh too push. She thinks she's too pretty.

‘My friend had one; she said it was the best thing she'd ever done.'

‘You have to go through an operation.' I look to Paul for support – surely, he can't condone her attitude with his background?

‘Lots of women have them,' is all he says.

‘I can be awake though, can't I?'

‘You'd have an epidural so you can't feel anything . . .'

‘Perfect,' she says.

‘And you wouldn't be able to get up and look after your baby straight away.' Are you putting your baby or yourself first? I want to ask her. Some people are so selfish. Why have a baby in the first place if you aren't prepared to put it ahead of your own interests?

‘It won't change my life,' Katie says. ‘I won't let it.'

I bite my tongue.

‘You're looking well, Zara,' Paul says in an aside to me as he leaves the surgery. ‘How's the shepherd?'

‘He's fine, thank you.'

Paul's eyes narrow. ‘I don't think he's right for you.'

‘It's none of your business.'

‘He doesn't have a permanent job and he doesn't have any money.'

‘Money doesn't matter. I'm independent. I look after myself,' I say, annoyed.

‘I don't want to see you get hurt.'