Vivian smiled back. ‘Don’t worry – we’re incomers to the town ourselves, in a way. We lived closer to Bristol before we moved down here, which is where the girls grew up, but when Harry was diagnosed with his condition we wanted to be more on the doorstep.’

Charlie felt a lurch of sympathy. Vivian was a relatively young grandmother; did she fear outliving her much adored grandson?

‘Holly decided to come back from working in Manchester at around the same time, so she’s not exactly a native to these parts, either,’ Vivian continued. ‘So it’s nice to all be in one place together.’

‘Holly seems so at home here,’ Charlie replied. ‘I mean, with the shop and everything. I just assumed she’d lived here for ages.’

‘A town like Willowbury is a welcoming place,’ Vivian replied kindly. ‘Before you know it, you’re so settled you can’t ever imagine living anywhere else.’

‘I’m sure that’s just the weed in the air, Mum!’ Holly teased as she came through to the kitchen. ‘I know I probably shouldn’t say it in front of you, Charlie, but quite a few of the town’s residents swear by its medicinal properties!’

‘I’m sure,’ Charlie replied wryly. He was relieved he hadn’t been imagining it when he’d smelt it last week; although he was intending to turn a blind eye as much as he could. There were bigger battles to fight in Willowbury than a few middle-aged dope smokers.

He took a sip of his beer and glanced around the neat, tidy, cream-coloured kitchen. Charlie was amused to see that there was a child’s paintings on the fridge, presumably created by Harry, and some adorable photographic fridge magnets of the two now grown-up sisters. He couldn’t imagine his own parents displaying photos and memories on the fridge, or even thinking to make magnets out of them. They were much more the official-school-photos-in-brass-frames-on-side-tables types. Continuing to peruse the fridge, he was brought up short by a picture of Holly in her mid-teens, hair a reddish blonde, certainly a lighter colour than it was now, cut in a very sensible late-nineties style. She was wearing a long, button-down summer dress in a ditsy blue floral pattern that subtly complimented her creamy white skin and serious Bristol-blue eyes. She was smiling rather guardedly at the camera, and didn’t seem to have the self-confidence she had all these years later. As he stared at the photo, lost in his own world for a moment, that prickle of recognition caught at the back of his mind once again; why did she look so familiar?