A PIECE OF CAKE. Trisha Ashley

we gave in to temptation. He suggested it, but I was ravenous by then, having worked right through lunch.

      It was a proper tea, too, with a three-tiered china stand groaning under the weight of finger sandwiches, scones, meringues and tiny cakes.

      There were little pots of jam, pats of dewy cold butter and dishes of whipped cream. It was a glutton’s delight.

      While we ate our way through this feast, we talked about all kinds of things, but especially his plans to move to the country.

      ‘I’ve got two dogs from a rescue home and they could do with a decent garden.’

      ‘Oh? What are they like?’ I asked, interested and he got out some snaps.

      ‘Here we are. This is Mitzi on the left and she’s part spaniel, you can see by the floppy ears. And the other is Minty, who I think is mostly bearded collie.’

      I admired the two happy-looking dogs and then showed him the faded snap of my beloved old dachshund, Snoopy, that I always kept in the back of my purse.