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He shrugged. ‘It might be raining in the morning. Now’s our chance.’

All she could find for him was a pair of Grandma’s thick gardening gloves and hers were hardly designed for handling copious volumes of snow, so by the time they were done, they were both tired and cold. However, now a magnificent snowman, wearing a scarf wrapped with solar fairy lights Charlotte had found in a box of Christmas decorations, an old bicycle helmet, and with olives for eyes and a cucumber for a nose, stood on the pavement beneath the nearest streetlight. Jacob grinned, lifting a hand for Charlotte to high-five him.

‘It’s perfect,’ Charlotte said.

‘The best snowman ever,’ Jacob agreed.

‘Are you cold?’

‘Freezing.’

‘More hot chocolate?’

‘Great.’

They headed inside. Back in the kitchen, a little of the awkwardness returned, but they had something between them now, some life memory to share.

‘I haven’t made a snowman like that since I was a kid,’ Jacob said. ‘I remember this one year it snowed really heavily, but usually it just rains, doesn’t it?’

‘I hope it doesn’t rain this year,’ Charlotte said.

‘Me too.’

They looked at each other. They were only standing a couple of paces apart, close enough that if they reached out one hand each, they could touch. Charlotte stared at him, feeling both thrilled and queasy at the same time.

Jacob cleared his throat. ‘Are … are your hands … cold?’

Charlotte swallowed. ‘Yes.’

He lifted a hand. She lifted a hand. They hung awkwardly for a moment like two children practising greetings. Then Jacob’s fingers touched hers. He ran his forefinger along hers and she felt a little tingle at his touch. It hooked beneath hers and slowly drew her in. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, resting his cheek on the side of her head.

Neither of them spoke. He didn’t try to kiss her, just held her gently like a fragile bird, keeping her safe. She let her breathing be slow and gentle, let her thoughts still, her worries dissipate. She could have stayed like that forever.

‘Jacob,’ she whispered.

‘Charlotte,’ she heard him whisper back, his voice as gentle as a breeze.