Read the book: «Let It Snow»

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

About the Publisher

Prologue

‘Mum, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?’ Lily Cortez hurried across the lawn to crouch in front of the slender figure huddled over an iPad in a garden chair. The raw October day had almost ended and the light was steely grey.

‘Oh! Lily, we didn’t expect you until tomorrow.’ Roma swiped at her wet cheeks turning the iPad face down in her lap. Roma Martindale was an all-weather gardener and though the October day was blustery, planters, compost and pots of violets surrounded her.

‘I decided to make the journey from Spain over two days rather than three to surprise you.’ Lily frowned. The redness of her mum’s eyes spoke of a prolonged weep and Roma was no crybaby. Lily felt in the pocket of her fleece for tissues to press into Roma’s chilly hands. It was probably ten degrees cooler in Peterborough than it had been in Barcelona when she’d left at the crack of dawn yesterday, driving away from a Spanish husband who was as relieved as her to call it quits. She gave her mum a minute to blow her nose. ‘Are you ill? Or is Patsie?’ Patricia Jones was Roma’s life partner, a tall and confident lawyer whose dark hair fell smoothly to the shoulders of her dark blue suits.

‘We’re both fine.’ Roma blew her nose again. ‘She’s doing pro bono work at a women’s refuge. And I thought you weren’t arriving until tomorrow so …’ Fresh tears leaked down her cheeks.

‘Has someone said something crap about you and Patsie?’ Not everyone accepted same-sex couples. Sergio, Lily’s soon-to-be-ex-husband, never coped well with Lily having two mothers, for example.

Roma shook her head, searching for a dry area of her tissue. ‘No.’ She blotted more tears.

Lily had to swallow before she could speak again. ‘Please, Mum. I’m imagining all kinds of awful things here.’ Then her gaze fell on the iPad. ‘Have you received bad news?’

Roma pressed her hands over the iPad and squeezed her eyes shut. ‘You’ve caught me at a weak moment. It’s something in the past, really.’

Lily had to blink tears away. ‘You’re frightening me,’ she said in a small voice. What on earth could cause her usually sunny, funny, quirky mum to sob so broken-heartedly?

Still clutching the iPad and levering herself to her feet, Roma took Lily’s hand. ‘Come indoors.’

The kitchen was warm and welcoming. After hanging her khaki gardening coat by the back door and kicking off her wellies Roma sat down at the table. Lily took the next chair and watched as the iPad’s screen sprang to life. Slowly, Roma turned it so Lily could read it: the Peterborough Telegraph obituaries.

Lily’s eyes scanned the notice on the screen. ‘This guy Marvin’s died? He was eighty-seven, so quite a bit older than you, Mum.’ Marvin had been a beloved husband of the late Teresa, a loving dad and granddad, a much-missed brother to Bonnie. ‘I’ve never known you cry over a man.’ As a gay woman, out and proud all her adult life, Roma’s friends were mainly female.

Roma was silent, her face blotched red.

Then realisation caught Lily’s breath. ‘I can think of one man you had a relationship with. But he was some one-night stand whose name you didn’t even know … you said.’ She gazed into her mother’s eyes, at the apprehensive, apologetic agony she read there. ‘Wasn’t he a one-night stand? My father?’

With a noisy swallow Roma shook her head. ‘It was a mess. You know most of the story.’

Lily’s stomach dropped down a shaft. ‘But not all, evidently! Tell me. I want to try to understand.’

Roma covered her eyes. ‘Patsie and I wanted a family. She had a settled career with maternity benefits. She became pregnant with your sister Zinnia via the sensible route: anonymous donor. But I got jealous. I wanted a baby too.’ She clasped her hand over Lily’s as her voice broke. ‘Patsie wouldn’t agree, particularly before the first baby was even here. I was a freelance photographer scraping a living and there was childcare to be considered. If there was to be a second pregnancy then she wanted to have artificial insemination again using the same anonymous donor – possible to arrange even in 1983 – so the babies would be full siblings. I thought she was unbearably pragmatic.’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘It wasn’t a one-night stand I had, it was an affair. Marvin was an older man, who, in my reckless, heedless naivety I thought wouldn’t be hurt by me using him. He never knew I was only in the relationship to get pregnant.’

The kitchen clock ticked from above the range cooker, loud in the silence. ‘Why did you lie when I asked about my father?’ Lily demanded, rocked by an unexpectedly keen sense of loss.

Lurching to her feet Roma took down a glass and filled it from the chilled water dispenser in the door of the fridge. Footsteps dragging, she returned to her seat. ‘I met Marvin through a photography job – headshots of managerial staff for a company magazine. He developed a thing for me and let it show. He was shocked when I, a woman in her mid-twenties, responded.’ Colour flooded her cheeks. ‘He was fit and good-looking for early fifties. I thought he’d be kind to me and most of my experience was with women.’ She cleared her throat and raised her gaze to Lily’s. ‘Are you sure you want to hear this?’

Lily’s heartbeat seemed to have taken over her whole body, pumping in her stomach, her head, her throat. She nodded.

Roma hooked her hair behind her ears. The wind had tumbled her corn-coloured waves. ‘It lasted for five months, the length of time it took me to get pregnant. I was sorrier than I thought I’d be to end things. Poor Marvin was devastated. Said he’d fallen in love with me. Had risked his marriage, the happiness of his kids. He was so hurt. It was awful. I’d been so immature and self-centred that I truly had barely given his marriage a thought. Looking back, I can’t believe my own selfish behaviour. And Patsie—’ Roma’s hands were shaking now. ‘I almost destroyed us. She’d been so happy in her planned pregnancy and all the time I’d been betraying her.’

‘With a man,’ Lily whispered, shocked.

A bitter smile twisted Roma’s lips. ‘Yes. Well. That it was a man didn’t help. But I’d betrayed her trust, her plans for our future. It was rocky for a long while.’

Through the enormity of everything she was hearing, Lily craved information on one person. ‘Tell me about my father,’ she demanded hoarsely.

The semblance of a smile flitted across Roma’s face. ‘He was a company director. Fair-haired, clean-shaven, looked good in a suit. He liked old-school rock ’n’ roll, rugby, tennis, cinema, detective shows on TV, holidays in America.’

Lily felt her insides had been hollowed out with a giant spoon. ‘And you didn’t think his concern for “his kids” should extend to me?’

Roma rose and quietly poured coffee from the filter jug. Her voice was low and filled with shame. ‘I couldn’t find a way to make things right. Be fair to everyone. There were two babies on the way; I was desperate for Patsie and I to stay together and be parents to both. The only way to bring that about was for her to know the full story … but nobody else. I couldn’t risk Marvin knowing about you or you knowing about him because Patsie would have been faced with him in your life.’

Lily gazed at the cup of coffee her mother put before her and felt faintly revolted by it.

Roma sat down and wrapped her arms around her, smelling of fresh air and compost. ‘If you only knew the hours we talked about it! Everything, anything I thought of doing just felt as if it would make my wrong wronger, risk my family and risk his family. If we’d told you the truth and you wanted to find him it would change the entire dynamic of our family – you and Zinnia, Patsie and me. Lily, don’t hate me! You had two mothers and a sister. I wanted it to be enough.’

‘So, on my behalf, you chose to exclude me from his family. One half of my family.’ Lily propped her head on her fist. She could actually see how her mother had made the choice she had, though it left her feeling as if she had a black hole where her insides should be. ‘I don’t hate you, Mum. It’s all so … you. Chaotic and impetuous. It’s just tough to find my father and lose him in the same instant.’ Tears prickled her eyes.

Then, slowly, Lily sat straighter, pulling the iPad towards her, rereading the obituary. And in it she saw her consolation prize. In silence, she highlighted the first of two names and tapped it into a search engine. A list of hits filled the screen and it took her seconds to access one. Then it felt as if the words she read reached into her chest and gripped her heart. ‘Look. The eldest of my two half-brothers, Harrison Tubb, is the landlord of The Three Fishes pub in a village called Middledip.’ She looked up at her mum with a surge of excitement. ‘It’s here in Cambridgeshire. I could find him.’

Roma sat back with a horrified gasp. ‘Oh, Lily … no!’

Chapter One
November, two years later

Lily passed a string of coloured Christmas lights through her hands and wondered whether, if she looped it several times, she could use it to gag her sister.

Zinnia, supposedly helping Lily decorate The Three Fishes, had so far done no more than fidget with a fistful of silver tinsel and give Lily earache. ‘We’re your family!’ Zinnia declared, shoving her fingers through her chestnut hair. ‘What you’re doing could hurt Patsie and Roma.’

Lily climbed on a stool and began to feed the string of lights through hooks above the bar. ‘They understand it’s my decision. You know this, Zin. Let’s not press “repeat” on the conversation.’

Zinnia bulldozed on. ‘Aren’t we enough for you? You and I grew up sharing a bedroom! We’re sisters—’

‘And you’re the loveliest sister in the world.’ Lily hoped popping in a positive note would distract Zinnia. She jumped down, scraped her stool towards the next few hooks, gave Zinnia a hug then clambered up again. ‘How about twisting that tinsel around the ivy swags along the mantelpiece?’

‘Lily!’ Zinnia tossed the tinsel onto the polished wooden bar. ‘I know you! I’m where you come from. I understand how it feels when people think we’re weird because we come from a single-sex family.’

‘I know,’ Lily agreed gently. ‘But there’s more to my life than that. It’s the part you don’t share that’s the problem, isn’t it?’ Plus the fact that a couple of years ago Lily had visited the village to find her half-brother and had ended up applying for a job in his pub, finding somewhere to live in Middledip – and here she still was. Zinnia was particularly upset by that.

Zinnia didn’t offer a direct reply to the question but her voice softened. ‘You’ve completed your mission and met him. You should either tell him the truth or leave the poor guy in peace.’

By ‘he’ Zinnia meant Harrison Tubb of course, almost universally known as Tubb from the pub, and her stomach clenched at the idea of him discovering the truth before Lily was ready. If she ever was. She left the Christmas lights dangling and slid off the stool to stroke Zinnia’s arm. ‘I’ve completed half my mission and I’ll complete the other half next month,’ she pointed out, with a little leap of excitement that there was a half-brother yet to meet. ‘I understand that you’re concerned I’m somehow trying to leave our family – which I’m not – but my relationship with our mums isn’t affected by where I’m living or who I mix with. If my relationship with you is suffering then it’s because you’re letting it.’

Zinnia tried another tack. ‘You’re worth so much more than working in a crappy village pub.’

‘It’s not crappy.’ Lily moved her stool along again.

‘In the two years since you came back from Spain you’ve been wasting your time in this village. You don’t seem to want to be near your family—’ Zinnia halted, as if realising she might be painting herself into a corner. ‘We’re your real family, Lily,’ she clarified.

‘Families have more than one branch.’ Lily hooked up the end of the string and got down to judge whether it was hanging evenly.

Zinnia’s dark eyes saddened. ‘Just get telling him over with so it’s not hanging over us all. I feel like telling him myself—’

‘That would affect our relationship. It’s up to me when, and if, I think the time’s right for me to spill the beans.’ Lily had to fight to keep anxiety from her voice, newly aware that Zinnia, through calling at the pub to see Lily, knew Tubb and could actually have blabbed Lily’s secret at any time. ‘You don’t agree with the way I’m doing things, but this is my business.’ Not yours hung unspoken in the air.

Before Zinnia could argue further, a calm voice came from behind the bar. ‘Sorry to interrupt.’

Both Lily and Zinnia swung around. Lily forced a laugh. ‘You made me jump, Isaac. This is my sister, Zinnia. She’s helping me with the Christmas decorations. Zin, this is Isaac O’Brien the relief manager Tubb appointed while he was away.’

Isaac, his eyes as brown as apple seeds, hair several shades darker, a single small gold ring in his ear, reached across the wooden countertop to shake Zinnia’s hand. His eyes returned to Lily. ‘I didn’t realise you were coming in this afternoon to do this.’

Lily flushed. She’d learned enough about Isaac in the past fortnight to know he was politely asking why she hadn’t cleared it with him. He’d come from a trendy venue where he’d managed dozens of staff and probably brought in an outside company to put up Christmas decorations. ‘Janice asked me if I’d do it as she’s in Switzerland. They’re normally up at the beginning of November and it’s the seventh already … I assumed she or Tubb had communicated with you.’ Janice had a pretty free hand at the village pub and becoming an item with Tubb last Christmas had only elevated her status.

‘We open in less than an hour,’ he pointed out.

‘Right.’ Lily covered up a flash of alarm that so much of the interval between closing after lunch and reopening in the evening had been eaten up. ‘We only have little trees on the bar rather than a great big thing so the rest won’t take long.’

‘Thanks.’ He gave them a smile then turned and headed in the direction of what was usually referred to as ‘the back’, the area of the ground floor that encompassed a place to hang coats, the cleaning supplies cupboard and the mixers store, along with doors into the beer cellar, kitchen, car park, upstairs accommodation and staff loos. There was also a desk in an alcove where Isaac’s laptop often rested.

‘Wow,’ Zinnia breathed, eyebrows waggling as the sound of his footsteps died away. ‘He’s easy on the eye. Tubb will never look quite the same.’

Lily pictured Tubb’s wiggle of hair at the front and his smile that turned down instead of up. ‘Yes, Isaac’s hot,’ she agreed in a low voice as she dragged one of the small Christmas trees out of its box. She now had less than sixty minutes to get the bar to a presentable state and if Isaac’s appearance had diverted Zinnia from her crusade to reshape Lily’s life it might be a good thing. ‘His last job was in a hipster lounge in Peterborough. He’s reserved, but he has a way of getting people to do things.’

Zinnia gave an exaggerated wink. ‘He could get me to do all kinds of things—’

‘Shh!’ Lily hissed, hoping devoutly that Isaac wouldn’t overhear. ‘That’s my boss! And what about George? Remember him? Your boyfriend?’

Grinning, her earlier mood obviously forgotten, Zinnia shrugged. ‘I was just … noticing.’

Lily grabbed Zinnia’s jacket and bundled it into her arms. ‘Come on, I’ll show you out of the back door. I’m not sure Isaac appreciated you being here out of hours.’

‘I haven’t done the tinsel,’ Zinnia protested as Lily opened the counter flap and waved her through.

‘I’ll do it.’

Zinnia paused for one last time. ‘How’s Tubb doing, by the way? Heart failure’s no joke.’

Lily softened. ‘OK, Janice says, but still a worry. Getting lots of rest, like the doctor ordered, omitting alcohol and fat and stuff from his diet.’ Tubb had shocked the village last summer with breathless turns and alarming swelling to his legs and stomach. Janice had got him into hospital and he’d come out with a daily regime of drugs.

For a while they’d managed with him in the background and Janice at the helm but after he’d received a stern warning from the doctor that he needed a complete break from the seventy-hour weeks and heavy lifting involved in running a pub, he’d agreed to take sick leave. The pregnancy of Janice’s daughter-in-law in Switzerland had run into trouble about the same time that Isaac was brought in, so the couple flew off to move into Max’s spare room, Janice to help look after the other two children in the family and Tubb to rest for a few months. Lily had had a year and a half to get to know and like Tubb by then, to value the man who grumbled and griped a bit but loved his pub and the village. She’d seen the little acts of kindness behind his gruff exterior and been delighted for him when he’d found love with Janice. She missed him but phones and computers made it easy to keep in touch. She missed cheerful, unflappable Janice too.

Zinnia hugged Lily goodbye and allowed herself to be ushered off the premises, then Lily returned to the decorations. Swiftly, she hung baubles on the mini trees.

Isaac reappeared. ‘Vita should have been in by now but she’s just rung. Her husband’s been held up coming home to take over childcare so I’ll bottle up.’ Isaac began rearranging mixers as he restocked the shelves. ‘Kind of you – and your sister – to take on the decorations. I should have asked what usually happened.’

Lily paused in her clearing up, arms full of boxes and a roll of tape like a bracelet around her wrist. ‘Last year I did it with Janice.’

He gave one of his slow nods, dark eyes hard to read. ‘Should I pay you additional hours? What would Mr Tubb expect?’

Lily felt laughter bubbling. ‘He’s not big on paying additional hours,’ she admitted frankly. ‘A few things happen around here on a voluntary basis over the festive season, like the decorations, Christmas lunch and running the raffle. He pitches in himself so nobody minds.’

He raked his fingers through his hair and it fell back into the same gleaming layers. ‘But you have your own business too, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I’m an exhibition designer. But I like Christmas so putting up the trees and stuff was fun.’

‘OK, thanks.’ With customers and staff alike Isaac was warm, articulate and cheerful but his resting expression was often serious with hints of thoughtfulness. It was, as Zinnia had indicated, hot.

‘Um,’ she said. ‘Nobody calls him Mr Tubb, by the way. He’s just Tubb from the pub. Or you can call him Harrison, like Janice does. A few of the older customers call him Harry.’ When he merely produced another nod Lily edged through the counter flap to dump the boxes then wheeled the vacuum cleaner out of its nook ready to slurp up the threads of tinsel from the carpet. Seven minutes to opening time. Just right.

The bar was almost ready for the six o’clock session and Isaac could hear the chefs clattering in the kitchen as Lily returned from stowing the vacuum cleaner. He was still getting to know the staff but already had Lily down as one of the easiest to deal with: punctual, reliable and with a sunny nature, though that hadn’t stopped her standing up for herself with her sister, judging from the snatches of spirited discussion he’d overheard.

He made a mental note to find a way of acknowledging her giving up her time unasked. Or unasked by him, he corrected himself. Apparently Janice, who he didn’t know well as she’d been preparing to leave for Switzerland when he’d arrived, had felt comfortable casually suggesting Lily give up her time. Almost two weeks he’d been here but he felt like the new boy at school putting on a show of fitting in, covering up how hard he was trying to process the ways his life had changed in a few short months.

He went to the safe to gather up an armload of coin bags as Vita rushed in, apologising breathlessly as she dragged off her coat. He reassured her and made an adjustment to her hours worked, then went into the bar he considered dated with its open fire and dark wheelback chairs, signed into the till and began to count in the float as he had on innumerable other occasions in other jobs, latterly at Juno Lounge.

‘The Juno’, where he’d been licensee and leaseholder, had been an edge-of-the-city pub in Peterborough that hadn’t closed on weekday afternoons as The Three Fishes did. Opening for breakfast, it had gone through until closing time with extensions at weekends for the busy function room. As it had once been a chapel he’d kept some of its original pews, adding sofas, an eclectic collection of dining chairs and oversized glass light fittings hanging from the Victorian cast-iron beams with their ornate tracery. Its style was quirky, semi-industrial chic.

Had been, he reminded himself, feeling the familiar swell of unhappiness that, through pure bad luck, Juno Lounge was no more. The furnishings and equipment had been auctioned off. The red-brick building was ornamented with the brewery’s ‘lease available’ sign and awaiting a new leaseholder when it could be reopened in a few months’ time to bring it back to life with chattering diners and laughing drinkers as it had been …

… before it failed.

It was no comfort that he hadn’t been at fault. Once a venue had no customers, it had no value. Juno Lounge had limped then staggered and, as a leaseholder, Isaac’s work had been cut out to wind it up fast enough to hang on to some of the money he’d made in the preceding six years.

He hadn’t hung on to Hayley but he wasn’t sure why he’d expected it. Hayley wasn’t into failure. Kindly but unequivocally she’d ended their relationship and he’d made no attempt to change her mind. When you were in trouble you saw people’s true colours and he hadn’t cared for hers.

She’d actually been the one to hear through the grapevine that a fill-in manager was needed at The Three Fishes and, apart from irritation that it had been her who found the temporary job for him and that it was at such a brass-and-beams pub, Isaac had been filled with relief. It was good to have money coming in and refreshing to be back in the countryside. His dad had been a tenant farmer and Isaac had loved his childhood spent on the fenland farm half an hour north of here between Cambridge and Spalding.

‘What do you think?’ The voice jolted him from his thoughts and back into the cosily traditional bar of The Three Fishes, where, he realised, Lily Cortez was on the other side of the counter smiling, palms upturned in a gesture that welcomed him to admire the fruits of her labour.

He closed the till and joined her to gaze at the strings of coloured lanterns looped jauntily along the beam above the bar, reflecting in every glass in the rack below. Tinsel spiralled around the thick wooden posts and the bar-top Christmas trees twinkled with a rainbow of baubles and lights. Santa ornaments dragged their toy sacks along wooden beams towards silver stars and golden bells and a thick swag of greenery twisted with tinsel festooned the mantelpiece above the open fire.

‘Great,’ he said. Last year, Juno Lounge had been artistically decorated with silver twigs and golden wire with red origami stars but that had been his place. This wasn’t. When you went in somewhere as relief manager you kept everything as the publican wanted. The homely decorations exactly suited The Three Fishes. He gave her a smile. ‘Very jolly and welcoming. Thanks for all your efforts.’ Her eyes were a clear blue, he noticed, like the reflection of the sky in a lake he’d once camped beside with Hayley in New Zealand – if you could count living in an upscale motorhome camping. Hayley liked the outdoor life only if she could also look after her nails, skin and hair.

Lily’s smile flashed, making those eyes sparkle. ‘It was fun.’

‘Thank your sister too,’ he remembered to tack on, though the sister had done little but give Lily a hard time about something, from what he’d heard. The alarm on his phone pinged to inform him it was six o’clock and he sent one last glance around the bar. ‘Perfect timing. I’ll open the doors.’

Lily and Vita were on duty with Isaac that evening. They worked together well, chatting to punters, drawing drinks, tapping orders into the now tinsel-bedecked till, smiling, moving around each other easily. Vita, large glasses glinting in the lights and brown hair in a poker-straight ponytail, had a few years on Lily who, he knew from her staff file, was thirty-six.

The bar was doing OK for a Thursday night, partly due to the darts team having a home match. Stools surrounded the dartboard area and the spectators cheered, groaned and exchanged banter. Isaac was returning to the bar after a foray to the beer cellar to check temperatures when he heard a male voice exclaim, ‘You gay girls get everywhere!’ followed by a cackle of laughter.

Turning, Isaac saw a red-faced late-thirties guy smirking at Lily, his over-bright eyes unfocused. Then, when he copped a freezing glance in return, he laughed. ‘C’mon, darlin’, it’s just a bit of fun.’

Coolly, Lily finished pulling a pint of bitter. ‘What’s funny? Lesbians in general? Or that I might be one?’

The red-faced man’s grin faded. ‘Don’t hop on your high horse. It’s only banter.’ He pronounced ‘banter’ as ‘ban-urr’.

Lily added the pint to the three already ranged on the bar before the man. ‘That’s £15.44, please.’ Unsmiling, she took his twenty-pound note.

Isaac watched the man ogling the curves beneath Lily’s black polo shirt as she tapped at the till. He could step in and suggest to the punter that he go easy on the bar staff or find somewhere else to drink but his rule was to allow his team to handle irksome customers themselves first. Unpleasant behaviour had occurred frequently at Juno Lounge but it was the first he’d witnessed at The Three Fishes.

The cluster around the dartboard cheered a good score as Lily dropped the change in the man’s hand as if reluctant to touch him. She turned to the next customer with a contrastingly warm smile. ‘Hiya, Gabe! How’s the menagerie?’

Gabe was an older man, easily recognisable by his silver ponytail and the smile that creased his face. Isaac already knew him as a regular with a smallholding that apparently provided a home for old and stray animals. ‘Eating me out of house and home,’ he complained with a broad grin that hinted he wasn’t really complaining. ‘Have you heard how Tubb is?’ Just about the whole village was worried about Tubb and shook their heads over how odd it was not to see him behind the bar at The Three Fishes.

While Lily chatted to him about Tubb apparently enjoying his sojourn in Switzerland, the red-faced customer gurned in her direction and – clutching the four pints – stumped back towards the zoo around the dartboard. Isaac watched as he said something to his cronies, leered at Lily and burst into a huge guffaw. His friends joined in the mirth.

Apart from a tinge of extra colour, Lily did nothing to acknowledge the guy acting like a dick.

Isaac decided to cover the dining area himself so neither Lily nor Vita had to run the gauntlet past the increasingly rowdy darts players. The red-faced guy soon became puce, his raucous laughter ringing around the room and grating on other customers, judging by how many were casting the oaf disenchanted looks before finishing up their drinks and pulling on their coats.

The next time the man broached the bar again he was positively weaving and the darts players were almost the only customers. Vita went to serve him but he waved her away. ‘I want Little Miss Lezzy to pull it for me.’ He burst into lewd, suggestive laughter.

Isaac, who’d been clearing plates, turned and headed for the bar. Lily, however, stepped fearlessly up to the man, only the bar counter between them. ‘I’m afraid I can’t serve you further alcohol this evening.’ She held his gaze for a moment, then turned away.

The man reached between the beer taps and grasped her arm. ‘Oy! Don’ you friggin’ walk away from me—’

Isaac was there in two strides but Lily had already broken the man’s grip. ‘You need to leave, sir,’ she snapped.

The man sneered. ‘I’ll leave when I’m good an’ ready.’

Lily seemed effortlessly composed. ‘My option is to call the police, sir. Two seconds to decide. One—’

‘Stop bein’ so up yourself.’ Red-faced man was looking decidedly ugly.

‘Two.’ Lily reached for the phone on the wall.

Standing behind the drunk and watching Lily handle it, Isaac saw the man’s friends pulling on their coats and scowling. ‘C’mon,’ one of them called. ‘Not worth it. Crappy little pub in the arse-end of nowhere. They’re welcome to it.’

Lily put the phone to her ear and her finger on the first button.

The red-faced guy shoved abruptly away from the bar. ‘Your beer’s piss anyway.’

The men clattered chairs over and harrumphed a few more insults but they did blunder out of the front door. In the silence left behind, Lily replaced the phone.

It was ten past ten and the bar was empty. Fantastic. At least the men had put plenty into the till before their behaviour cleared the place. ‘Vita, perhaps you could start collecting glasses?’ Isaac suggested, to give him a quiet moment with Lily. As Vita moved off, he turned to Lily, intending to check she was OK.

‘Sorry,’ she jumped in before he could speak. ‘I should have handled that without antagonising him. I let him get to me because I hate it when a woman turns down a date and the man says she must therefore be gay, especially when “gay” sounds like an insult.’ Her blue eyes were stormy. ‘It always touches me on the raw because Zinnia and I are from the kind of family with two mums and no dads. I thought I’d tell you because I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s easiest all round when people know.’ She tilted her head and waited for him to react.

Chapter Two

It was obvious Lily was at least half-expecting something negative from him. Isaac wondered how many people had hurt her on this subject over the years. ‘The whiff of homophobia is always unacceptable and I can see why the awkward customer wound you up particularly.’ He smiled. What she’d outlined wasn’t precisely a situation he’d encountered before but he didn’t see why he should treat this differently to any other personal topic a member of staff had chosen to bring up. ‘Are you OK? I thought you dealt with the offensive customer well.’

She shrugged. ‘He was nothing compared to drunken stags in Barcelona. My ex-husband’s family ran a bar just off Las Ramblas. Bar Barcelona was a big place, firmly on the map so far as stags and hens were concerned. It got rowdy and I learned to ignore most bad behaviour … but tonight I let that guy get to me.’

‘He was offensive,’ he repeated. ‘Your husband was Spanish?’ It explained her surname of Cortez.

‘Yes. We met when he was in the UK gaining some experience of hotels because his family was thinking about opening one. He tried to live here and pined for Spain, so I tried to live there.’ She gave a tiny quirk to her eyebrows. ‘I think I could have lived in a different part of Spain, or in a different way. But I never settled into the family business.’

‘Because your main job’s as a …’ He paused, groping for the title she’d given him before but unable to get past ‘exhibitionist’, which was a distracting thought and definitely not what she’d told him.

‘An exhibition designer,’ she completed for him. ‘I design stands for things like trade shows – functionality of the space, branding, display, that kind of stuff. But that wasn’t seen as more important than working in Bar Barcelona. Sergio’s brother Nando and his wife seemed happy to muck in and my wanting to pursue my own career caused friction.’

Isaac stepped to one side to allow Vita through with a stack of glasses. ‘And here you are working in a village pub so I guess you like bar work.’

She hesitated, glancing around at the brass and beams and the winking Christmas decorations. ‘It’s more that it’s where I seem to end up.’ As if that reminded her that she was supposed to be working she gave him a brief smile and swung off to the dining area to collect salt and pepper cellars to refill.

Vita bustled past for more glasses and soon as many closing jobs had been accomplished as practicable without them actually closing. Isaac sighed at the sight of the empty bar. ‘It’s not going to take three of us to finish up. One of you can take an early night.’

‘Vita can,’ Lily said, looking up from sorting sauce sachets into caddies. ‘Her kids get up at the break of dawn.’

Vita couldn’t hide a flash of relief though she said fairly, ‘Or we could flip a coin.’

Lily waved the idea away. ‘We can even things up another time.’

The other woman needed no further cajoling. She vanished into the back and soon came the sound of the outside door closing. Isaac checked the time. Ten thirty. He could easily have sent Lily off as well but this wasn’t his pub and he wanted to improve his feel for things. ‘Is it often as quiet as this?’

‘Never in all the time I’ve worked here.’ Lily rolled her eyes. ‘It was that obnoxious guy and his obnoxious mates. We almost never have aggro in The Three Fishes and it sent everyone home.’

He puffed out his cheeks in relief. ‘Good. I’d hate Mr Tubb to think I’m running his business into the ground.’ Though he wasn’t serious, saying the words out loud made his stomach give an unexpected lurch.

She stepped closer, frowning. ‘We must have taken enough in the early part of the evening to make up for the last hour being quiet.’

‘“Quiet” like the Marie Celeste?’ But he grinned. ‘You’re right.’ He was just going to make another joke, this time about the novelty of ringing ‘last orders’ in an empty pub, when the front door opened and a woman strolled in. Wearing her forty-something years easily on her tall and willowy frame, streaked brown hair tossed artfully around her face, she was all but hauled towards the bar by a large Dalmatian dog whose tail became a blur when he spotted Isaac.

‘Doggo!’ Isaac heard himself say stupidly.

Doggo whined ecstatically, ears back, his doggy grin a mile wide as he bounced and danced, giving a loud bark, obviously frustrated by the restraining lead. Isaac strode around the bar and crouched to fuss the excited canine, choosing to focus on the dog he’d lost along with everything else, rather than on the woman watching with an indulgent smile.

Hayley.

In a long cream woollen coat and high-heeled black boots she looked as polished as fine china. What the hell was his ex doing here? And why did it have to be now, when there wasn’t a single customer in the place? Frigging typical, he thought bitterly. In her eyes, it would make him look more of a loser than ever.

‘He’s pining for you so I thought I’d bring him over as a surprise. See how you were settling in.’ Hayley sounded as composed as if they’d last met yesterday rather than two months ago, when he’d moved out of her flat in Peterborough, a forty-minute drive away, and into his sister’s spare room in nearby Bettsbrough until taking up residence in one of the seldom-occupied guest rooms upstairs a couple of weeks ago. Hayley glanced around the deserted bar. ‘Have you had a bomb alert or something?’ First she looked astonished and then, to his disgust, compassionate.

‘Aggro,’ he said briefly, still stroking Doggo, whose eyes were so much easier to meet. ‘Boys who can’t hold their beer. Locals cleared out when it kicked off.’

‘Ah.’ Then she said pleasantly, ‘Hello. I’m Hayley.’

Isaac heard Lily’s voice reply, ‘Hi. I’m Lily.’ Her footsteps came around the bar and then her legs, clad in black super skinny jeans, passed Isaac. Doggo gave her a glance and a tail wag. She said, ‘Lovely dog,’ then moved into the dining area and busied herself replacing the recharged condiment caddies.

Reluctantly, Isaac realised he was going to have to interact with Hayley because she was still standing on the red-patterned carpet of the bar, quite obviously waiting for him to finish his love-in with Doggo. Rising, he brushed off his trousers and gave Hayley a bland smile. ‘Drink?’ He strode back behind the bar.

‘Great.’ She slid onto a bar stool. ‘What do you have in red?’

‘Sangiovese?’ he suggested, knowing her predilection for Italian wines, and took down two glasses. Then, on impulse, ‘Fancy joining us, Lily?’ He was not in the mood for a tête-à-tête in the presence of staff, even if he carried Hayley off to a distant corner.

Lily looked startled. ‘Um, oh. Thanks.’ Diffidently, she joined them.

Though surprise flickered in Hayley’s expression she smiled courteously at Lily, who took the wine glass Isaac pushed across to her.

Isaac cast around for a subject that would involve a conversation long enough for the wine to be drunk and take them up to closing time. He hit on what had been a subject of much chatter on both sides of the bar since he’d arrived. ‘Lily’s going over to Switzerland in December to do something for Mr Tubb. Aren’t you, Lily?’

Lily took another sip from the dark red wine looking slightly ambushed. ‘Tubb’s brother Garrick and Janice’s son Max, really. They work for British Country Foods, which sells traditional British bakery products and conserves. I’ve designed their stands for the Zürich Food, Lifestyle & Health show and a Christmas fair in Schützenberg. The company’s sponsoring a group of us – the Middletones – to go over to sing at the events and lend an air of Britishness to things.’ Doggo squeezed round Hayley’s bar stool to approach Lily with his doggie smile and she smoothed his head and scratched him behind his ears.

Hayley was too polished to give any sign whether she found the conversation odd or uninteresting. ‘Are you driving or flying to Switzerland? We used to drive all over Europe.’

Lily glanced between Hayley and Isaac but didn’t ask who ‘we’ was made up of. ‘We’re driving through France. We could’ve flown to Zürich but there are nine of us and we’ll need transport while we’re there, especially for the keyboard, guitar and PA system. Our local performing arts college is hiring us its minibus as four of its students are involved. And a road trip will be an adventure. I’ve been practising driving and parking it in the grounds of the college with the site supervisor.’ She’d told Isaac she’d been pleasantly surprised that turning a corner hadn’t been like wrestling a bear as she’d suspected it might be.

‘It sounds great.’ Isaac made sure he was watching Hayley’s face when he added, ‘I hope to be driving in Europe again soon. When Mr Tubb comes back I’m taking instructor courses in survival training and outdoor education, one of them being in France. I also intend to work abroad when my training’s complete.’

Hayley’s gaze flew to his. ‘A complete career change?’

Isaac felt a sense of satisfaction that she looked a touch thrown. ‘One I’m more than ready for,’ he replied smoothly.

After more similarly stilted conversation, the last minutes of opening hours ground past and Isaac was able to lock the doors, shooting the brass bolts on the heavy wooden door. He smiled at Lily. ‘If you could just set the washer going I’ll empty it and clean the filters after I’ve cashed up. You get off home.’

‘If you’re sure.’ Lily looked relieved. She grabbed their wine glasses, said goodnight and slipped behind the bar. A few moments later Isaac heard her hurrying footsteps and the sound of the back door.

He planted his elbows on the bar and sent Hayley a level look. ‘Now, suppose you tell me what you’re doing here?’

Her neat eyebrows lifted. ‘You don’t sound pleased to see me.’

He shrugged, never removing his eyes from hers. ‘I didn’t think we’d left things in such a way that either of us anticipated seeing the other, so I don’t know how to feel.’

She had the grace to look uncomfortable as she fiddled with Doggo’s lead. ‘I didn’t know you intended to leave the country.’

‘Why shouldn’t I?’ he said, straightening, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his collar. ‘Surely, after the last painful months, when you ended things by admitting the failure of the Juno lessened me in your eyes, you’re not disappointed I’m going? You know I like the outdoors. I grew up on a farm and living in the city never stopped me loving the country.’ He’d been with this woman for several years and sometimes he thought he barely knew her.

Seconds ticked past. Hayley frowned and seemed to struggle with her thoughts. Then she sighed. ‘I came to ask if you’d take Doggo.’

He did a double take. ‘When we talked about it when we broke up you wouldn’t hear of it.’

She shrugged without meeting his eyes. ‘The dog walker’s moving away and I thought that as you were living in a village he’d be happy here.’ She paused. ‘If you can’t have him, I’ll have to rehome him—’

‘You can’t get rid of him like an out-of-season coat!’ Isaac interrupted, outraged. How could she stand to think of Doggo’s sadness and bewilderment at finding himself in a strange home with strange humans or, worse, in some kind of rescue centre? They’d bought him as a puppy four years ago and he’d never known other owners. He made an instant decision. ‘OK, I’ll have him. The pub’s dog-friendly.’ He thought about taking walks every day with Doggo and his heart lifted as if catching a wave. He didn’t know how Tubb would feel about a dog living in the pub accommodation but he’d pay for a steam clean or something when he left. The idea of having big, boisterous, joyful, loving Doggo back in his life was such a bonus.

It hadn’t been appropriate to fight Hayley for him before because not only had his immediate future been uncertain but he’d been staying with his sister Flora, and Jasmine, Flora’s youngest, was allergic to pet fur. When he’d moved to The Three Fishes, Doggo had still been living happily at Hayley’s city centre penthouse with a terrace and views of the cathedral.

‘What about your new life in Europe?’ she asked doubtfully.

‘He has a pet passport.’ Isaac refused to dwell on the fact that he literally didn’t know where his life would take him after the instructor courses.

After a few moments, she nodded. ‘OK then. I have his things in the car.’

They went out together to her Audi and Isaac took possession of Doggo’s bed, sack of food, bowls, toys, travel crate and spare lead. Helpfully, Doggo tried to grab a tug o’war toy, tail whipping madly, and Isaac almost went headlong over him. ‘Idiot,’ Isaac said fondly. When the canine possessions had been transported to the area just inside the back door, Isaac took Doggo’s lead.

Hayley gave it up without demur but took a moment to gaze up at Isaac. A tiny smile touched the corners of her mouth. ‘Lily seems nice.’ Her voice lifted at the end of the sentence as if it were a question rather than a statement.

His hand tightened on the loop of the lead, making Doggo fidget and look up as if feeling the tension vibrate all the way to his harness. ‘Lily is young and uber-attractive,’ he said, equally irritated whether Hayley was fishing for information or giving him a hint as to how to interact with staff. ‘But you know I have a perfectly good code of conduct with co-workers. I waited until I’d left the casino to ask you out. I’m not in need of coaching.’ In fact, their time at the casino hadn’t overlapped by much. He’d been in the throes of buying the lease of the Juno when the chain had brought Hayley in as general manager, a hotshot they’d poached from another group. He’d admired her: so good at her job, so groomed, it had been a no-brainer to ask her out once he could.

Hayley flushed. ‘Then I’ll butt out,’ she said stiffly. She took a step back and he wondered whether it was from his rebuff or from the word ‘young’, which he was a little ashamed of now he’d said it. At nine years older than him Hayley had always been defensive about her age. She crouched down and slid her arms around Doggo, stroking the top of his head with her cheek. ‘Be good for Isaac,’ she whispered. Doggo tried to lick her face so she straightened up, said goodnight and stepped smartly towards her car.

Isaac watched her drive away, mentally apologising to Lily for using her to show Hayley that she’d lost the right to comment on his life. Then he looked down at Doggo and murmured, ‘But Lily is uber-attractive.’

Doggo wagged his tail as if to agree. Isaac sometimes thought Doggo was an old soul. His eyes were wise even if he still acted like a puppy.

Chapter Three

On Saturday morning Lily stretched and yawned in the compact comfort of the apartment in Carola’s basement, peeking through the curtains at frost sparkling on the shrubs and turning every twig to etched glass. The apartment had once been Carola’s ex-husband’s den and movie room. By the time Lily had come to Middledip assuming she’d stay for a week or so it was an Airbnb. Now she’d lived in it for two years and it was her home.

Carola’s house was built on a slope so though the apartment was underground at the front it faced the back garden via French doors that allowed light to flood in. It was smaller than both the Peterborough semi and the Barcelona apartment she’d shared with Sergio, and Carola and her daughters lived above her, but she loved it. It was her space: a bedroom, a lounge/kitchen combo and a shower room. A bijou hallway led to steps up to Carola’s kitchen, but though that door was generally unlocked neither of them burst through it unless expected.

A burst of laughter wafted down from Carola’s part of the house and Lily grinned to hear Owen Dudley’s rich baritone chuckle. He’d only just progressed to staying over when Carola’s teenage girls, Charlotte and Emily, were at home. Carola and Owen had met on a dating site last winter and showed every sign of falling hard for each other. Lily was deeply glad. Carola had told her how flattened she’d been by her husband Duncan’s defection nearly three years ago.

Lily hopped out of bed and made for the shower, remembering last week when Carola’s happiness with Owen had prompted Duncan to ring and check that their daughters weren’t being neglected for ‘your new man’. Carola had been opening the door to Warwick, Alfie, Eddie and his dad Neil at the time but she hadn’t let that prevent her from hissing, ‘As you left the family for Sherri I don’t think you’re in a position to question me!’ The others had looked awkward at bearing witness to Carola arguing with her ex.

And on the theme of ‘awkward’ and exes … Lily frowned as she turned on the shower, her thoughts flitting to the tense conclusion to her Thursday evening shift at The Three Fishes when the woman called Hayley had turned up.

Though polite enough to Lily she’d obviously been there to talk to Isaac and the tense way he’d greeted her had made Lily decide on ‘ex’ as their most likely relationship status.

Throwing off her black PJs covered in pink hearts – a Christmas gift from Zinnia last year – Lily stepped under the hot shower and turned her face to the spray. She liked Isaac and couldn’t help being aware of his storybook ‘tall, dark and handsome’ looks and the tiny gold earring that put an edge on his groomed style. His eyes at once fascinated and unsettled her – dark and thoughtful, even brooding, she thought she read sadness in them. Had Hayley put it there? Immaculately turned out and obviously several years older than Isaac, she’d reminded Lily of a Cruella de Vil who’d finally got her glossy Dalmatian dog.

In contrast, after her shower Lily pulled on jeans and a purple jumper depicting a snowman in a Christmas pudding hat and opened her laptop to work on her designs for the British Country Foods stand at the Food, Lifestyle & Health show. British Country Foods was a Swiss company, despite their name, creating typically British baked goods and conserves. The Swiss loved their food and were international in their tastes.

She hummed ‘Let it Snow’ as she pulled up the files and let the other Christmas songs the Middletones would perform float through her mind. She’d hit on the idea of a singing group when tossing around ideas for the project. BCF had leapt at the idea and had quickly come up with a sponsorship package. Carola, who’d been in choirs when she was younger and whose daughter Charlotte was at the local music school, had not only involved herself but known exactly who to invite to join the group.

BCF’s stand would be in the food section, obviously, and would include product shelving, plinths for display and tables and chairs for meetings. It gave her a buzz to know that the physical versions of these had already been ordered from a provider local to British Country Foods in the Swiss canton of Zug (pronounced Zoog, Janice’s son Max Gasly had told her). Presently she was going over the elements designed to provide a British flavour. A loop on a TV screen would show the crosses of St George and St Patrick superimposing themselves on the saltire of St Andrew to form the Union Jack. Others would feature moody fade-ins/fade-outs of Welsh valleys, English farmland, the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland and Scottish mountains. BCF’s products were ethically produced and mindfully packaged and trade show focus was on growing their presence in perfectly chosen retail outlets and online stores.

On the other side of the coin, at the Schützenberg Christmas market the BCF stall would be aimed at selling products directly to the public – especially the Christmas line at this prime time for consumer spending. Apparently expat Brits would give their eye teeth for mince pies or jars of brandy butter, whilst Swiss people had an appetite for wholesome, ethically produced international foods. ‘Britishness’ was BCF’s USP.

The stall was to be provided by the organisers in the shape of a jolly red chalet and Lily was busy on an interior backdrop. Corporate branding would be low-key to take advantage of the local, crafty feel of the market but it would be there. It wasn’t the sort of thing a designer would normally be employed for but Lily was contracted on a whole-project basis. ‘Whole-project’ had never before included her leading a group of British village singers through Europe to provide cultural authenticity but so what? The company CEO Loris Aebi – known as Los or Los the Boss – was keen on encouraging grassroots arts. She couldn’t wait for her first trip to Switzerland. She hugged to herself a vision of sipping spicy glühwein in between crooning ‘White Christmas’ and ‘Mistletoe and Wine’, wrapped up in a parka and boots as smiling shoppers paused to listen.

It would be great to see Tubb again too. His spell of ill health had been alarming but she was reassured by his and Janice’s regular contact with The Three Fishes.

Would she ever feel the time was right to tell him she was his half-sister …?

Shaking off the question that she seemed to spend half her life wrestling with, she turned to perfecting the designs for the trade stand banners and ‘clings’, the film containing corporate branding that adhered to the stand. She sank into her work, making tiny tweaks to sizes or positions and the rest of the morning flashed by until her phone lit up with a FaceTime call and Max Gasly calling. Quickly, she picked up.

‘Hey! Just working on your stuff.’ She turned the phone to give him a flash of her laptop screen then turned it back towards herself.

Max’s image grinned at her, sandy hair sticking up on top of his head. ‘Great! Everyone’s loving your ideas. Sorry to call you on a Saturday but I just want to check we’re on schedule for final files.’

‘I’m sending you stuff for approval this morning. When you’ve okayed them they can go to print,’ said Lily.

‘Fantastic,’ he replied. ‘Oh, hang on.’ The image on her screen whooshed around for a couple of moments and when it steadied again a small beaming boy had appeared on Max’s lap.

Lily, recognising Max’s youngest son, also Janice’s grandson, beamed back. ‘Hello, Keir!’

‘Yo!’ Three-year-old Keir waved both his hands energetically. ‘I wiv Daddy! I got a car on my jumper that Grandma made me.’ He pulled at the royal blue jumper depicting a bright red car to make sure she understood.

‘It’s gorgeous, you lucky boy,’ Lily enthused.

Then the head of Keir’s five-year-old brother Dugal entered the shot, pushing in front of Keir. ‘I’ve got a dog on mine.’ Proudly, he stuck his chest out for Lily to admire.

It took a minute of negotiation before Max had the call to himself again. ‘Regarding the Middletones’ visit, I’ve asked my Swiss colleagues for suggestions of what you might like to do in your free time.’ Max’s image came nearer and then retracted as he picked up a notebook and pushed up his glasses. ‘Suggestions are: a visit into Zürich, a procession here in Schützenberg, another Christmas market, watching ice-skaters, a choir … Are these along the right lines?’

Lily beamed. ‘Oh, yes! Thank you. People can always opt out from things they don’t fancy.’

‘Great!’ Max looked pleased. ‘Garrick Tubb will be around too, of course.’

‘It will be great to get to know him.’ Max didn’t know how great, as to him Garrick was just his mum’s partner’s brother who he’d helped bring on board at British Country Foods last spring. Garrick had decided he wanted to live in Europe after many years in the US and Max had given his boss Garrick’s CV. Neither knew that Garrick was the half-brother Lily had yet to meet.

Max glanced behind him. ‘Mum and Tubb want to chat to you too, if that’s OK?’

Quickly checking the clock in the corner of her laptop screen, Lily agreed. ‘I’ve got a rehearsal after lunch but I’m OK till then. I’ve been wondering how Tubb is.’

They said their goodbyes and the image swung jerkily, then Lily was looking at her workmate Janice and her boss, Tubb, who had an arm along Janice’s shoulders and was looking relaxed and happy, though thinner than before his illness. ‘How’s everything going at the pub?’ he asked at once.

‘Did you get the decorations up?’ supplemented Janice.

The conversation became chaotic as Dugal and Keir appeared once more to claim adult laps and shout their news over Lily reassuring Tubb and Janice that all was well and the decorations were safely in place. She laughed when she realised the boys had begun to call her boss ‘Grand-Tubb’, which probably seemed logical to them as he was now partnered up with their grandma. It warmed Lily’s heart to see him so much part of a family. When she’d first begun work at The Three Fishes he hadn’t had much in his life apart from the pub. Now he was letting his body heal with Janice’s family and Garrick – his own brother and her half-brother – was living nearby. ‘How are you, Tubb?’ she asked.

He smiled his turned-down smile. ‘Fine, thanks. Taking the pills as prescribed and attending the local heart failure clinic. I fly home for an appointment with my UK consultant in January but hopefully the baby will be here and settled by then.’

‘And how is Ona?’ Lily enquired.

Janice pulled a worried face at the mention of her heavily pregnant daughter-in-law. ‘Getting frustrated by the placenta being badly positioned, so there’s a high risk of bleeding. She’s doing very little and they’re keeping a close eye on her but they’ve warned her they might have to induce. We’ll all be glad when the baby’s safely here.’

‘We getting a Kissmuss baby,’ Keir informed Lily happily. ‘A new one.’

Lily smothered a laugh. ‘That’s something to look forward to. I’m coming to Schützenberg to see you in a few weeks.’

Dugal’s little eyes flashed with interest. ‘Will you bring us presents?’

‘Dugal Gasly!’ Janice broke in. ‘People are more important than presents. We’re looking forward to seeing Lily and Carola and all of the singing group, aren’t we?’

Dugal nodded, but still looked as if he’d like to know about the presents.

After Lily had replied to a few more questions about how things were going at the pub and how she was finding Isaac – ‘Efficient and pleasant,’ she assured them – the call ended.

Almost immediately, Lily’s phone alerted her to a text from Carola that proved she wasn’t letting Owen distract her from the schedule. Fancy coming up for a sarnie before choir practice?

Very much! Will bring biccies, Lily sent back. After finishing her task and emailing Max as promised, she climbed the stairs to Carola’s kitchen where Owen was pulling on his coat and dropping a kiss on Carola’s blonde bob. Lily just had time to say, ‘Bye!’ before he disappeared out of the door.