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It was dark, but the front window with its Nutcracker display was so large that it let in enough of the light from the street lamps for her to see her way to Dylan’s door.

She took a deep breath before knocking. Maybe she should just leave him alone? Well, the worst he could do was tell her to go away, and she couldn’t imagine Dylan doing that. And at least she’d know that she’d tried her best.

She heard footsteps coming down the stairs and then the door opened. He’d changed into tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie.

“Oh, hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Lucy said with a smile. “I . . . um . . . just wanted to come to check you’re OK. I come bearing supper,” she said, holding up the toasties.

Dylan looked unsure and she half expected him to ask her to leave. Before he had a chance to, she added, “They smell really good.”

“Come on up,” he finally said.

Lucy followed him up the stairs and into the large living area. She placed the sandwiches on the kitchen island and got up on the stool. Dylan sat down next to her.

She passed a sandwich over to him, and they opened their food in silence, and began to eat.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked. “A cup of tea?”

“Thanks, that would be great,” Lucy said. She watched him put the kettle on and take a couple of mugs out of the cupboard. She sensed that she shouldn’t push him and that he’d talk when he was ready to. She just had to be patient.

He brought the drinks over and handed one to her before sitting next to her again.

“Hey, you’ve got your appetite back?” he commented, a moment later.

Lucy nodded, realising she should probably slow down with her eating, in case her stomach did suddenly take against it. “I’m really hungry and this is delicious.”

“Excellent.”

“Of course, you realise that these are sandwiches you made up earlier. I just put them in the sandwich toaster. I’m guessing this kid really does want their dad to cook for them.”

Dylan gave a little smile. “That would be really weird, wouldn’t it?”

“It would. Funny though.”

Dylan finished his sandwich and turned to Lucy. “Thanks for what you did earlier. On the Ferris wheel.”

“No worries,” Lucy said, giving a little shrug. “I’m just so sorry I dragged you onto that ride.”

“You didn’t know. I should have said I don’t like heights. It’s embarrassing and I can usually manage to hide it by avoiding situations like that.”

“In your defence, I didn’t give you much of a chance.”

“You have a surprisingly strong grip,” he joked. “You holding on to me really helped.”

“I’m glad.”

“I’m not . . . the best at being looked after,” he explained quietly.

“Why?” Lucy asked, gently. “You’re so good at looking after other people.”

Dylan was silent for a moment. “I’ve never really had anyone to look after me,” he admitted quietly.

“Oh,” Lucy said. She felt a sudden urge to hold him.

“Yeah, so I’m not used to it and I’m not great at accepting help. I guess I learned to be independent when I was pretty young and that’s my default setting.”

“But . . . everyone needs help every now and again,” Lucy said. She struggled to control her features so he wouldn’t see she was upset. Upset at the thought that anyone could do this to Dylan. Dylan who was always so giving and caring.