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“What?” said Lucy.

“I said I’d learn how to do things so that if you needed my help, you knew I could at least make a decent cappuccino.”

“I didn’t think you were serious,” Lucy said.

“Well, I am.”

The door opened again, heralding the arrival of a proper customer.

“Well, you can start by clearing that table in the corner,” said Ellen. “Then I’ll show you how to use the coffee machine.” She turned to serve Seren, who worked part-time for Carrie to supplement her artist’s income. Seren looked painfully shy, as usual in her paint-covered overalls. “What can I get you today, love?”

Dylan began collecting up the dirty mugs and plates from the table Ellen had pointed out as Lucy stood and watched open-mouthed. What on earth?

Dylan came behind the counter and placed the dirty things by the sink. He got a cloth and cleaning spray and went to wipe the table down, by which point Ellen was ready to show him the workings of the coffee machine.

Lucy did her best to carry on with her day, but having Dylan working around her was very distracting. Not least because there wasn’t that much space behind the counter, especially when you were trying not to stand too close to someone.

She couldn’t deny that he was good with the customers, and his upselling when it came to people debating whether to have a snack with their drink or not was impressive. As was his ability to get pretty much any woman who walked in to flutter her eyelashes at him.

She distracted herself from watching him chatting happily with yet another pretty young woman by reflecting on how she needed to tell her mum and dad about the baby. She couldn’t do it over the phone, so she would have to visit them the following day, or it would be another week of her feeling terrible that her parents were in the dark about this massive thing that was going on in her life.

She pulled out her mobile, and quickly messaged her mum: Is it OK if I drive up for lunch tomorrow? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you both.

Absolutely, came the reply a few minutes later. That will be lovely. See you tomorrow!

Lucy told Ellen to head home early. As Dylan wasn’t going anywhere, she figured she may as well make use of him, and as Ellen had been doing so much to help her, it felt like the very least she could do.

The final customer left and Lucy locked up the front door. “Could you mop the floors if I load the dishwasher?” she asked Dylan.

“Sure,” Dylan said. He gave a little salute which Lucy ignored.

Lucy didn’t realise how long she’d been lost in her thoughts as she went through her chores on autopilot, until Dylan asked, “So, is it just me you’re annoyed with or is there something else?”

“Excuse me?” Lucy said.

“You’ve barely spoken to me all day and you look like there’s something on your mind. I was just wondering whether it’s just me that’s wound you up.”

“It’s partly you,” Lucy admitted, closing the dishwasher door and starting the cycle. “I don’t need you around here keeping an eye on me, but I understand your reasoning for doing so, and you being here today has made things easier.”

“What else is it then?”

Lucy sighed and poured herself a glass of water. She took a sip before saying, “I haven’t told my parents about the baby yet, and I obviously need to. I’m going to drive up to see them for lunch tomorrow and I’m dreading it, to be honest.”

Dylan pulled a face. “A bit of a difficult conversation, I imagine.” He leaned back against the counter.

“You could say that. I know they’ll both be thrilled about becoming grandparents, but let’s just say this isn’t the way they would have imagined it happening. It’s not the baby I’m worried about telling them about, as much as the fact that I’m not with the father. They’re going to be all concerned about me, and it’s going to be rubbish and awkward.”

“Why don’t I come with you?” Dylan suggested.

Lucy almost spat out her drink.

Dylan laughed. “Let’s think about it for a minute. I’m not being as crazy as you think,” he explained. “Naturally, your parents are going to be concerned about who the father of your child is. This is a man who’s going to play a huge part in the upbringing of their grandchild, even if their daughter is refusing to marry him . . .”

Lucy threw him a glare. “Don’t start that up again.”

“Fine,” Dylan conceded. “Anyway, my point is that the best way to assuage their worries is for you to bring me to meet them so they can see how lovely I am.”

Lucy thought for a moment. And dear God, there might well be some sense in what he’d just said. “It probably would make them happier if they could meet you . . .” she finally admitted.