Peter wouldn’t give up. ‘There’ll be a catch. Get it in writing that he won’t be charging us. I had a builder who—’

Rob turned his attention to his left. ‘Peter, honestly – I live just outside Troutbridge, and I’ve got first-hand experience of how much the local community’s missing that hall. Not just Brownies but the knitting club, the dancers, the gardening clubs, baby groups. They’re holding meetings in houses to try to keep things going, but we need to get it up and running again. They need to believe life is going back to normal. People do offer pro bono work, you know. It’s not always about money.’

‘So it’s a yes?’ Alice’s pen was poised over the agenda. ‘I’ll call him and set up a meeting ASAP?’

‘I think so,’ said Rob, looking around the room. ‘Can’t see why not? Anyone? Great. What’s next?’

There was a gust of fresh air as the double doors from the hall were pushed open.

‘I am so sorry I’m late, folks!’ Diane appeared in a swirl of scarves and layers, and headed to the spare seat, grabbing a biscuit as she passed the plate. ‘What have I missed?’

‘I’ll fill you in at the end,’ said Alice, as Diane scraped her chair back and plumped down. ‘We’ve got a fair bit to push through. Um, next up, it’s another plea for accommodation from Janet. She says she’s sorry to ask again, but does anyone know of any spare rooms – or anyone with a holiday let, even – we can offer to the Watling Avenue families? Some have got teenagers doing exams and it’s a nightmare for them, with revision and so on.’

Everyone made sympathetic noises, particularly Diane. ‘It’s so hard on the youngsters,’ she said.

Tara murmured too, but felt embarrassed. She had spare rooms and a garden studio that could sleep two (dogs allowed). She knew she should offer; she wanted to help. But the rooms were still full of her mother’s belongings, familiar and unfamiliar possessions she’d barely got round to sorting out, and she couldn’t bear the idea of strangers coming in.

It was a crap excuse, and she knew it. She pretended to check the agenda, and hoped her guilt wasn’t showing. Between Keith’s unexpected intrusion, and now the mental image of strangers unpacking in Mum’s spare room, her skin was prickling as though she had heat rash.

‘Tara? You OK?’ Diane peered over her glasses.

‘Yeah, fine.’ Tara looked up. ‘What’s next, Catherine?’

At the end of the meeting, Tara was caught by Rob Lloyd, who wanted her to speak to one of his elderly neighbours.