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lumpy custard, his mobile phone rings. ‘It’s Tristan,’ he mouths to me, then moves away from the table and paces the floor anxiously as he talks.
    Looking around at my fellow volunteers, I feel the warmth that has formed between us. I came here looking for a way to distract myself from being alone, but I’m surprised at the sense of community that I’ve found. To be honest, I might even consider coming back here next year. Particularly if I’m still a miserable spinster with no one to love. If my life continues as it is then I might even be standing in the soup line myself, by then.
    When Clive comes back to the table, there’s a pensive and slightly troubled look on his face.
    ‘Bad news?’
    ‘Tristan’s missing me,’ he says. ‘He wants me to join him at his parents’.’
    ‘That’s good news!’
    ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘But then I’ll have to leave you.’
    ‘Oh.’ Hadn’t thought about that part. ‘You must go,’ I say. Even though I actually want to beg Clive not to. ‘You should be together.’
    ‘What about you?’
    ‘I’ll be fine,’ I insist bravely. ‘I’ve been fed, and I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself for the rest of the day.’ At least I have a comfy sofa and a telly and don’t have to head back out into the cold, hard streets with nothing but a few cardboard boxes for solace.
    ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind.’
    ‘Clive. Go. I’ll push you out of the door if I have to.’
    ‘You’re a lovely person, Lucy. Free chocolate for all of next week for this.’
    ‘I can eat a lot,’ I threaten. ‘And I’ll be in every day.’
    ‘You already are and we love you for it.’
    Clive gives me a bear hug, plants a kiss on my cheek and then waves over his shoulder as he goes out of the door – leaving me to wonder if it’s possible to have a game of Pictionary with just one player.

Chapter Nine
    A ddison took a step backwards as they approached the front door of the house.
    ‘Your parents own
all
of this place?’
    Autumn nodded.
    ‘Not just one floor?’
    ‘All of it,’ she confirmed.
    Addison pursed his lips and she thought she saw a gulp travel down his throat. Everyone’s reaction was the same when they saw where her parents lived. She used to wish fervently that home was a tiny terraced house in some northern industrial town. Their wisteria-covered mansion was very grand and imposing, and was always a great embarrassment to her when taking home impoverished and socially-aware boyfriends. It had ended more than one relationship.
    She was sure that it wouldn’t come to that with Addison. He wanted her for herself, not for what her parents did or didn’t have. Or had too much of. He was cooler, more accepting and, at least he
had
a job, which was an improvement on most of the men she’d been romantically involved with over the years. Autumn didn’t think, however, she’d mention to him just yet about the family’s other homesin the Bahamas, Gstaad, Nice and various other places around the globe. Or their country ‘bolthole’ as they called it – a sprawling farmhouse in the Cotswolds surrounded by acres of land.
    ‘You said they were upper-class, Autumn,’ he reminded her. ‘Not one step down from royalty.’
    Wiping her palms on her dress, she chewed nervously at her lip. ‘We don’t have to do this.’
    ‘We can’t do a runner now. What will happen to all the festive delights your mother will have spent hours preparing?’ Addison put his arm round her shoulders and squeezed. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘It’ll be fine.’
    ‘They can be quite over-bearing,’ she warned.
    ‘And I can be quite charming,’ Addison countered. ‘They’ll love me.’
    Autumn hoped that he was right. She hadn’t really cared that her parents had disapproved of every other man she’d ever taken home to meet them, but suddenly, this time it mattered that they should like Addison – and that they should like him a lot.
    The door opened and they stepped