An opportunity has arisen for a capable, multi-skilled individual at Butterworth Wines, a small private vineyard located on the outskirts of the pretty rural village of Fernfield.

The position would suit an experienced gardener, familiar with large-scale gardening, with the ability to manage a team of part-time workers and, above all, a passion for the outdoors. The estate comprises a family home, ten acres of land, mostly planted with vines on a south-facing slope, the winery and stables converted into accommodation for the successful applicant. Duties to include some light housekeeping and companionship, although no cooking. A full driving licence is required as the property is located off the beaten track and the role may require some driving of the homeowner from time to time. Please send an introductory email, including a contact telephone number, to [email protected]

‘Well,’ I said, not sure which bit to comment on first: the fact that someone, somewhere in our village, was producing wine this far north or the dodgy email address. ‘Gardening, managing staff, housekeeping and driving … more commonly known as a dogsbody, I’d say.’

‘But no cooking,’ said Evie, pointing out the positive. ‘And you could do the rest standing on your head.’

‘Could I?’ I arched an eyebrow doubtfully. ‘I can’t even manage myself, let alone others.’

‘Didn’t you say you’d been offered a promotion to supervisor at the crematorium?’

That was true. And if the staff were only part-timers, it might not be too onerous a task.

‘I didn’t even know there was a vineyard in Fernfield.’ I wrinkled my nose. ‘Don’t you need Mediterranean sunshine to grow grapes?’

‘No idea, you’re the gardening expert, not me,’ she said. ‘I do know where it is, though: it’s a couple of miles out of the village on the Buxton road. Set back behind a tall brick wall; you’d never know it was there.’

‘Of course, the one major stumbling block is that I don’t know anything about wine.’ I shuddered, picturing the contempt on Harvey’s face when I’d incorrectly served white wine with our pork last week.

‘You like drinking it, that’s a start. Besides, are they asking for wine knowledge? No.’ She sat back and folded her arms. ‘And it’s only for six months. You could stick anything for that long and it would give you a chance to catch your breath and decide what to do next.’

I nodded thoughtfully. ‘I suppose there’s no harm in sending an exploratory email.’

Evie let out a long breath. ‘Good because—’

She was interrupted by a call on my mobile. I picked it up and stared at the screen.

‘It’s a mobile number, not one of my contacts.’ I looked at Evie, my stomach fluttering nervously. ‘What if Harvey has bought himself a new phone, to get around me blocking him?’