Mills & Boon Christmas Delights Collection. Rebecca Winters

barely ever cooked at all, actually. I can’t believe there’s all this stuff in here.’

      ‘Kitchen gadget catalogues can be very enticing.’

      ‘Really?’

      ‘Yes. They make things sound so good that you wonder how you’ve lived without these wonderful inventions for so long.’

      ‘Oh.’ He paused, looking back at the item hooked on his finger and thumb again. ‘So do you have a meat baller?’ He snapped the ends together a couple of times and I giggled.

      ‘I do not.’

      ‘Do you want one?’

      ‘I don’t. Thanks all the same.’

      ‘Not much of a meatball maker then?’ He pulled the gadget off his fingers and tossed it into a box for donation.

      ‘I just use my hands.’

      ‘Usually the best tools,’ he said. ‘Do you cook a lot?’

      ‘When I get time. And have the inclination.’

      He nodded acceptance. ‘Did your mum teach you how to cook?’

      I cleared my throat a little. ‘No, not really. She wasn’t really much of a cook. I taught myself really. It’s not rocket science. If you can watch telly and you can read, then you can usually make something edible.’

      ‘That’s true.’

      We continued in silence for a few more moments.

      ‘You said “wasn’t ”.’

      ‘Huh?’

      ‘You said “wasn’t”. Is your mum not around any more?’

      ‘No, she died about ten years ago.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘It’s fine.’

      ‘And your dad?’

      ‘He lives abroad. I don’t see him.’

      Michael nodded, obviously getting the point that this wasn’t a subject I wanted to talk about. For some reason, I wanted to tell him not to take it personally and that I didn’t really talk about any of this stuff with anyone. Janey was an exception but I’d only told her everything accidentally thanks to a second bottle of wine and a particularly crappy day.

      ‘Do you cook?’ I asked, then glanced up at the state of the kitchen. ‘When you can find the oven, of course?’

      He gave me a tilted head, you’re-being-a-smart-arse type of look and smiled.

      ‘I’m not bad. Ma taught us all, wanting to make sure that we didn’t starve when she sent us out into the world.’

      ‘That’s good.’

      ‘Yeah, I don’t mind it actually. Although I’m kind of rusty at the moment. I’ve not really done a lot for a while. I’m going to have to brush up if I’m to make anything decent for Christmas dinner.’

      ‘I’m sure the others will help you out if you get stuck.’

      ‘Probably. Or they may just sit and enjoy watching me struggle and squirm. You know, like brothers and sisters do.’

      I smiled. I didn’t know.

      Michael picked up on my non-committal reply. ‘No siblings?’

      I shook my head.

      ‘Did you not find that lonely growing up?’

      ‘That’s everything from those drawers,’ I said, changing the subject. ‘Do you want to start going through them and see what you think you might want to keep?’

      Michael gave me a long look, aware that I had blatantly directed the conversation away from anything personal and back to work.

      ‘OK,’ he said, eventually. ‘On the proviso that you’re able to tell me what most of these things are so that I can make an informed decision.’

      I smiled, trying to make up for having blanked his question about my childhood. ‘I can certainly try.’

      A short while later, Michael had just stepped out to take a call and was returning when my own phone, still tucked in my bag, began to ring. Engaged in trying to find all the parts of a cutlery set, I had my head down, knowing for sure that I’d seen a bunch of teaspoons around here somewhere.

      ‘Do you want me to grab that?’ Michael called from the hallway.

      ‘If you like,’ I answered, distractedly. ‘Aha! There you are!’ I said, fishing out four teaspoons from under an upturned clay flowerpot.

      ‘Holy shit!’

      I looked up at his exclamation.

      ‘Whatever’s the…Oh no! No no no!’ My horrified expression met his amused one as he entered the kitchen. In one hand he held my phone, which had by now stopped ringing, and in the other the bag I’d taken from Mrs B for safekeeping.

      I snapped out of my shock and scrambled over, snatching the bag from his hand.

      ‘It fell out when I grabbed the phone. Sorry.’ He didn’t sound sorry. At all. ‘It’s always the quiet ones, they say.’

      ‘They’re not mine.’ I faced him and drew myself up. ‘And even if they were, I’d have nothing to be ashamed about.’

      ‘That’s true. You’re a modern, emancipated woman. Who looks ever so cute when she blushes.’

      ‘Arrgh!’ I gave him a shove to move him from the doorway and rammed the plastic bag down to the bottom of my tote. His laughter followed me out to the hallway and I couldn’t help the smile that formed at the sound of it.

      Returning to the kitchen, I went back to what I had been doing. Two minutes later, Michael spoke.

      ‘Seriously?’

      ‘Seriously, what?’ I asked, looking up at him.

      He gave a nod towards the hallway. ‘You’re not going to explain that?’

      ‘Nope.’

      ‘Oh, come on!’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Are they yours?’

      ‘I already told you they weren’t.’

      ‘I know, but I thought you were maybe just being defensive, being caught on the hop, so to speak.’

      ‘No, they’re not. But even so, if I want to tote around a bag full of Ann Summers’ best, then surely that’s up to me?’ I was doing my best to keep a straight face, but the odd thing was, contrary to what I had ever believed possible at our first meeting, I was enjoying the banter with him.

      ‘Absolutely. And it certainly explains one thing?’

      ‘What’s that?’

      ‘Why you’re not so bothered about the fact you don’t see your boyfriend all that much.’

      I narrowed my eyes at him.

      ‘Perhaps I could leave one of them here. You know, just in case? We wouldn’t want any of your “visitors”,’ I made the quotes in the air with my fingers, ‘leaving disappointed.’

      His mouth pulled to the side a little, amused. ‘Oh, don’t you be worrying about that.’

      ‘Just trying to help.’

      ‘Of course you are.’

      I smiled and put my head down to get back to work.

      Michael was emptying the taller cupboards, as instructed. His height meant he didn’t have to use a stepladder like I did, so the process was much quicker. But two minutes later he broke the silence again.

      ‘Oh