Sam kept a close eye on Sacha while handing over two Cornish beef and onion pies to a couple. She didn’t blame the dog for fancying a pie. Sam smiled and said thanks to her customers, aware of Bryony lurking even closer, while Sacha snorted like Gnasher. She couldn’t help thinking that Bryony was as much of a hazard as – but far less charismatic than – Dennis the Menace.

The couple left and there was a momentary lull for Sam while a group of young guys relayed their orders to Stefan.

‘Your van drives my Sacha mad,’ said Bryony as if it was Sam’s fault.

‘Sacha has good taste,’ said Sam, wishing Bryony would at least lower her voice to foghorn levels.

‘Why d’you have to create such a smell?’

‘It’s an aroma and that’s normal because we’re using delicious and fresh local ingredients,’ said Sam, raising her own voice in the hope it would reach the wavering customers.

‘Sacha, get down!’ Sam flinched as Sacha broke free and almost got his gigantic paws on the counter top. He let out a snuffle that sounded like a herd of pigs. The customers pulled faces at each other and hurried off in the direction of the pub.

Sam loved animals and knew Sacha wasn’t really a threat, just over enthusiastic, but some of her customers were wary of dogs. ‘Bryony, can you keep Sacha away from the food service area, please?’

‘Three chicken and bacon, two beef, and a Yarg and onion!’ Stefan called, even louder than Bryony. Sam flinched but Stefan was grinning.

‘I can’t stand around here all day. I’ve got a training class to run. Come on, Sacha, darling.’

Bryony marched off, tugging a reluctant Sacha who peered back at the van before being brought to heel.

‘Shall I start a fund for her moving expenses?’ Stefan whispered while Sam unloaded the pies from the oven. Despite Sacha’s appearance, they were doing a roaring trade, and she needed to restock as soon as she’d put the current batch into paper bags for the customers.

‘I’ll stump up the lot,’ said Sam.

‘What’s wrong with her?’

‘I don’t know … She hates the festival, but she also seems to have a personal grudge against me.’

‘I doubt it. That woman must have been born sucking on a bottle of vinegar.’

‘Her mum and dad were both lovely people, but they moved out of Porthmellow when Bryony went to college. She stayed on and rented the flat over the dog grooming parlour. Anyway, I can’t worry about her now.’ Sam handed the pies to Stefan and spun round to face a group of teenagers in shorts and T-shirts. ‘Hello, you look like you need warming up. What can I get you?’