“I’m not quite that bad. But she is chipped.”

Ely looked at Annie as though she were completely off her rocker and shook his head. “I was just coming to see you. Had a call from Billy’s mum, said you’d offered him a job and needed me to be a reference as to his character.”

“Oh, yes, Billy. He’s having a trial with me on Saturday.”

“You could do worse than Billy. He’s a good boy. Had a tough start. He can be a handful but only when he’s not occupied.”

“So, do you think he’d be good at the café?”

“He’ll work hard and he’ll give respect as it’s given him.”

Annie hoped that wouldn’t be a problem; customers were not always famed for their respect for staff. Something about entering a catering establishment caused the nicest of people to behave like complete arseholes.

“Well,” said Annie. “He can have a trial on Saturday, and we’ll see how he gets on.”

“Right. I’ll be off, then, night fishing tonight.”

“In this?”

“It’s as good a night as any,” Ely replied. “You started thinking about the Christmas festival yet?”

“The Christmas festival?”

“Don’t tell me no one’s told you yet!”

“Let’s just suppose they haven’t,” said Annie.

“It’s only the biggest event of the year; aside from the winter solstice and Christmas, and then of course there’s the wassailing, but that’s not till Twelfth Night, so you don’t need to worry about that yet.”

For the love of God! Annie thought. How many parties can one village have?

“A bit of carol singing or something, is it?” Annie asked.

Ely laughed until he broke into phlegmy coughs. Annie waited for him to recover.

“A bit of carol singing,” he stammered, wiping his eyes. “Well, I suppose there’s a bit of that to it. You won’t want to miss it. In fact, now that the Nook’s open for business again, you’ll be hosting it!”

And with that he offered his good-byes and set off down the beach; the sound of his wellingtons trampling the stones could be heard long after his body was swallowed by the sea mist.

“Well, bugger me!” said Annie. “I’d better spend some time with Mari’s almanac.”

Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle shook herself, her fur clumping in the damp air, and let out a whine that could have woken the spirits of the long-departed Willow Bay sailors.

“Come on, then, fusspot,” said Annie fondly. “Home.”

Chapter 69

Winters can feel quite isolating for a small village, after the holiday makers have left and the weather set in, so we never give it the chance. You can be frightened by the wild dark of winter or you can meet it head on and welcome it in, and we Willow Bayers never shy away from a challenge!