Raincoats and Retrievers. Cressida McLaughlin

I’d like it.’

      ‘No zombie dogs then,’ Mark said. ‘Got it.’

      ‘But maybe this guy could have a dog, a companion, who also senses that something’s wrong with the house. It would prove to him that he’s not going mad, give it more credence.’

      Mark gave her an appraising look. ‘You might be on to something there.’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know – ignore me. But I’d love to see your films.’

      He laughed.

      ‘What?’

      ‘You said that like someone was holding a gun to your head.’

      ‘I did not!’ Cat protested. ‘I would like to see your films, but just maybe…maybe not with the lights off. I’m not good at watching horror films before bed.’

      ‘Even if you weren’t on your own?’ Mark asked, leaning back in his chair.

      Her insides fizzing, Cat returned his gaze.

      Their steaks arrived and they ate in a charged silence, until Mark asked her how the dog walking was going, whether Polly had finished her exams and how Frankie was getting on with her lodger. Leyla, one of the other nurses from Fairview vet’s, had loved the room and was moving in some time that week.

      Cat was pleased that she’d been able to help Frankie and her children. She was fitting into life at Primrose Terrace, and there was a niggling voice at the back of her mind asking her if it was wise to have a relationship with one of the neighbours. Mostly, she told that voice to back off, because it was hard to meet people, and you couldn’t base your relationship decisions on how awkward it would be if things went wrong.

      Mark topped up her glass, and Cat sipped the bubbles, enjoying the taste of top-quality champagne.

      ‘Now,’ Mark said. ‘Dessert?’

      ‘Undecipherable dessert.’

      They found their answer at the same time: Lemon posset with caramel honey tuile and pomegranate espuma. Cat watched Mark order them with a straight face and, when the waiter had gone, and she had managed not to descend into giggles, he reached over and took her hand.

      The sun was just a thin line of burnished red marking the break between sea and sky, and she could see herself and Mark reflected back at her in the window.

      ‘Cat,’ he said, and there was something about his voice that made her breath catch in her throat. ‘I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this point.’

      Cat shook her head. ‘You’ve been busy, it’s OK.’

      ‘It’s not. I have been distracted, with the move, the new film. But I don’t want you to think that you’ve been an afterthought. You haven’t.’

      ‘OK.’ Cat swallowed. ‘Thank you. I did wonder if we were going to sidestep around each other for ever. But this is – this is great. Getting to know you. A little bit, anyway.’

      ‘This isn’t a one-off,’ Mark said. ‘At least, I don’t want it to be. But what do you think? It hasn’t been a total disaster, has it?’ His thumb stroked her hand.

      ‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘Despite the threat of beetroot and seaweed, I think it’s going well.’

      The candle cast shadows of his eyelashes on his cheeks, and his skin looked dark against the crisp white of his shirt. Cat shivered and rearranged her serviette on her knee.

      ‘Are you cold?’

      ‘No, I’m fine. How’s Chips?’

      ‘She’s good,’ Mark said. ‘I took her for an extra-long walk this afternoon, through the park and up along the cliffs, so hopefully she’s tired out and not missing me too much. You have a cat, don’t you? What’s his name?’

      ‘Shed. He’s OK, though he’s not actually mine, he’s Joe’s. I wouldn’t have picked a grumpy ginger cat as a pet.’

      ‘It’s always puzzled me, why you don’t have a dog of your own.’

      Cat gave him a quick smile. She didn’t want to say anything to turn Mark against Joe. If things kept going in the right direction, she wanted them to be friends. ‘It’s not practical with Shed there, he can only just tolerate human company. But I’m not short of canine companions. The Barkers’ retrievers are lovely – quite different to the schnauzers or the Westies. They’re strong and they like long walks, but they’re very affectionate, playful. I somehow feel more confident when I’m walking them.’

      ‘I don’t think I know the Barkers.’

      ‘They live at number six. In their forties I think, their kids are grown up and off being independent, and Will and Juliette both have quite high-powered jobs. Juliette works at home some days, but when she’s in the office I take Alfie and Effie out. Will likes surfing. There’s quite a bit of it around here, apparently.’

      ‘Now that’s something I haven’t tried,’ Mark said.

      ‘Would you like to?’

      ‘Oh, I’m up for anything once.’

      Cat narrowed her eyes. ‘Anything? Even eating a fugu fish or swimming with sharks?’

      ‘Sure.’ Mark shrugged. ‘Why are your fears so marine-based?’

      ‘They’re not – those things just popped into my head. I love the sea. I suppose if your passion is horror, you don’t scare particularly easily.’

      ‘Other things scare me,’ Mark said. ‘Unpredictable things.’

      ‘Like what?’ Cat asked, and then, because it was going so well and she wanted to try and match Mark for playfulness while also doing a bit of digging, added, ‘Because saying you’re afraid of commitment isn’t unpredictable.’

      Mark grinned. ‘I know that. You’re doing me a disservice, that’s not what I was going to say. And I’m not afraid of commitment. I was in a long relationship, before this.’ His grin faded, but he held Cat’s gaze.

      ‘How long have you been single?’ she asked quietly.

      Now he did look away. ‘Nearly a year.’

      ‘And how long were you together?’

      ‘Six years,’ Mark said. ‘Moving down here was – is – part of the fallout. Getting some space, starting again.’

      ‘Six years is a long time,’ Cat said, thinking of the photo of the woman on Mark’s fridge door. But if they’d broken up…‘She must have meant a lot to you.’

      ‘She did,’ Mark said. ‘You can’t be with someone for that long and not feel it when it ends. But it did, and you get past it. It’s how life works. And tonight, this – with you – it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time.’

      He took her hand again, and Cat opened her mouth to reply, but the moment was broken by the waiter delivering their desserts to the table. Cat looked down at the pale yellow blancmange, the blob of vivid pink foam and golden sugar decoration. She dipped her spoon in and brought it to her lips, her eyes widening as the flavours hit her tongue. ‘Wow,’ she mumbled, ‘indecipherable food is delicious.’

      After Mark had refused to let her go Dutch and had paid the bill, and they’d finally pushed their chairs back from the table, the restaurant was nearly deserted. The three courses and coffee had gone some way to counteracting the most of a bottle of champagne that Cat had drunk, but she was still feeling a warm, hazy glow.

      They stepped out into the night-time breeze and Mark wrapped his arm around her waist. He opened the car door for her but before she’d had time to get in, he cupped her face, pulled her towards him and kissed her. It felt delicious, her whole body tingling in response to his lips on hers, and the whisper of the hilltop breeze. She wrapped her arms around