‘No, you’re fine,’ Nigel answered. ‘Nurse here has finished her morning routine, making Molly comfortable.’

‘Come here right now,’ Molly ordered, at least sounding something like her old self. ‘I want to hear all about France and how things are going over there. Nigel just tells me it’s all in hand, which is, of course, good, but I want the nitty-gritty.’ She saw the pretty pot of tulips. ‘For me, thank you.’ She looked at Belinda. ‘You’re looking well, positively glowing with health. Less stressed than usual.’

‘How are you feeling?’ Belinda asked. ‘I hope it was nothing too serious? Nigel didn’t say what was wrong.’

Molly smiled. ‘Let’s call it women’s problems and leave it at that, shall we?’

‘I wasn’t expecting you to have had your operation already. When did you get out of hospital? Should you even be home?’ Belinda said.

‘I was allowed to leave on one condition, that Nigel hired a private nurse. Now I’ve got six weeks of taking it easy to look forward to.’ Molly pulled a face. ‘Hence Nigel wanting you back. At least I’ll be able to tackle the pile of books on my TBR. Mixed blessings, eh?’

The nurse declined Nigel’s offer of coffee and left. A few minutes later, Nigel had brought the coffee through into the conservatory, along with a plate of chocolate brownies. The three of them sat companionably chatting about the hotels.

‘I’ll need to sit down with you after Easter and make a plan for the season,’ Nigel said. ‘Molly insists she’ll be fine before the real summer rush begins, but I’m not having her do too much, too soon. There are a few things we need to discuss.’

‘Okay,’ Belinda agreed. ‘In the meantime, I’ll carry on as usual. How’s everything out at Moorside? I was planning on driving across the moor tomorrow.’ She registered the guilty look that passed between Nigel and Molly and waited.

‘Ah, there’s something we have to tell you about Moorside,’ Nigel said. ‘We’ve sold it.’

‘Really?’ Belinda said, trying to hide her surprise. Being on Dartmoor, Moorside had always been different from the other two hotels in attracting a divergent, usually older, guest, but its annual turnover had always been more than acceptable to the groups’ accountants.

‘It’s always been that bit too far away to manage easily, so when the brewery unexpectedly made us an offer, we haggled a bit and then accepted,’ Nigel explained.

‘Fair enough,’ was all Belinda could think of saying as she wondered where the sale of one of the hotels would leave her job. It would certainly give her more time to devote to the remaining two.

‘Tell us about the campsite,’ Molly said. ‘Is it starting to look good?’