In general her clientele agreed with her (it is wise, incidentally, if you live in a very small village, not to get on the wrong side of its only hairdresser). Lissa, to them, still seemed a little strange and standoffish, always looking as if she was in a hurry to get places, dashing here and there. That was English folk for you. And now (once Jake had, while slightly drunk in Eck’s, revealed his intentions to ask her to the dance) here she was, waltzing off with the most eligible man in the village, now that Cormac MacPherson was down south too. Talk about having your cake and eating it.

Then Jake had asked Cormac for her number, and Cormac had found himself slightly awkward about passing it on.

Jake asked me for your number, he sent, which was better on the text as they’d just been exchanging notes on anal polyp medication and he wasn’t sure they weren’t together.

I know, said Lissa.

I was going to ask you if it was okay to give it to him.

Of course.

Of course? thought Cormac.

Mrs. Murray and some very angry hairdresser told me he was going to ask me out. The hairdresser is quite scary.

She is. Are you going to go?

Cormac loved the farmers’ dance. He thought back ruefully to the previous year, when he’d drunk a load of cider and let Emer do what she’d been pretty clear she wanted to do for some months, given how often she happened to be walking past the cottage in full makeup. He wasn’t God’s gift, Cormac would be the first to admit, but when girls liked him, they really liked him.

I don’t know. Should I?

You should. It’s at Lennox’s farm, they always put a good spread on. And what else are you doing for fun?

Is this the bit where you show off about going to that private members club again?

In fact, Larissa had texted him, but Cormac had pretended he hadn’t seen it. It wasn’t really his scene. He didn’t tell Lissa that, though.

Well, maybe you should up your game then.

What game?

The “Who’s Having the Best Secondment” game.

That’s not a game!

That’s exactly what someone losing a game would say.

Lissa looked at the screen, slightly annoyed and amused. A tiny bit of her was, she thought, possibly—just a tiny bit, not really—hoping he might be jealous.

Piss off! And that looks NOTHING LIKE ME!!

I’m relieved to hear that.

And what’s the music going to be like? All fiddle-de-dee twiddly-dee “I would walk 500 miles” stuff?

Cormac didn’t answer and Lissa wondered if she’d offended him.

She absolutely had.