While Willowbury wasn’t exactly inner-city Leeds, where he’d cut his teeth campaigning as a candidate in a seat that hadn’t been held by his party in nearly forty years, it wasn’t what he’d been expecting either. For a start, the preponderance of what might be called New Age establishments (although he’d been warned that this was not a moniker that the traders themselves much cared for) was rather more akin to Totnes, the place in Devon where he’d spent holidays as a child.

There was no getting away from it, he thought as he wandered back up the rather steep High Street. Everywhere you looked in Willowbury was a crystal, a mural or a shop selling spiritual how-to guides. And this was one of the major towns in his constituency. While not himself a religious man, Charlie had grown up as a kind of fair-weather Christian; church on Christmas and Easter Days, a carol service every year and a Remembrance Parade as a Scout. This kind of earth-based, alternative spirituality took some getting used to. And get used to it, he must, he supposed. He looked down at the toy voodoo doll Holly had given him and grimaced.

‘Morning, m’lord!’ A broad, rather mocking voice, rich with the vowels of the county, broke into his thoughts. ‘And how are you on this very fine day?’

Charlie’s head snapped up and he came face to face with Miles Fairbrother, who considered himself a local wit, as well as the owner of the town’s bakery.

‘Charlie’ll do fine,’ Charlie replied, smiling gamely at the master baker. ‘I’m not in the House of Lords just yet.’

‘Only a matter of time, I’m sure,’ Miles winked.

‘So, how’s business, Miles?’ Charlie asked, keen to practise his small talk. Press the flesh, Charlie, no matter how unattractive or annoying it is.

‘Not bad, not bad,’ Miles said. ‘’Course, I’m not sellin’ quite so many scones as I used to, given what happened to your predecessor, but at least the gluten-free bread’s starting to shift. That’s a fad that seems to be sticking.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ Charlie replied. ‘I must pop in and try some when I’m a bit more settled in.’ He was slightly surprised at how easily the platitudes could come when talking to someone like Miles. Privately, he thought that he’d rather get gluten-free bread from anyone other than Miles, even if he was a local businessman.

‘On the house for the local MP,’ Miles said. ‘At least, your first one will be. Never know when I might need a favour.’

Charlie suppressed a grimace. He had no idea what Hugo’s dealings with the baker had been, but instinctively he knew he probably shouldn’t go too far to find out. ‘That’s very kind of you, Miles, but I like to support the businesses in my constituency.’