‘What?’ Christopher went from scarlet to puce. ‘I was expecting a partial refund. How on earth do you justify that?’

Hannah gave up her attempt to deal professionally with the person who had engaged her and rounded on Christopher with a hiss. ‘Because I’ve worked my arse off – eighteen hours a day, sometimes – to rescue this mess. I have emails agreeing to pay me a sum and I’ve only had one-third of it. Nowhere in those emails is there a proviso for the project being snatched away from me with no notice and no courtesy but I’ve accomplished everything except executing the social media plan for the final ten days and putting up the posters and delivering the flyers for the official opening. I’ve done well over two-thirds of the agreed work.’

Christopher actually took a step back. ‘Those emails were a gentleman’s agreement at most,’ he rumbled.

Hannah snapped, ‘They constitute a contract. Gentlemen’s agreements only work when you deal with gentlemen.’ Christopher had the grace to look discomfited. Unable to meet the eyes of the traders, though she felt both alarm and sympathy coming off them in waves, she steamed on. ‘And to be blunt, if the second payment isn’t forthcoming then neither is a handover. You’ll be in as big a mess as you were when I got here because the information’s not yours until you’ve paid for it.’

Christopher opened his mouth again but Hannah addressed Cassie, saying, bitterly, ‘I accepted this work in good faith and I expect to hear from you.’

The silence she left behind was colder than the wintry scene she found outside, where the last of the hail was plinking down like the final words in a gigantic icy argument.

‘Hannah!’ Daintree hurried after her, hugging herself against the winter wind. ‘Are you OK? I’m so sorry this has happened. But you wouldn’t really go without handing over?’

She looked so agonised that Hannah halted. In her fury and humiliation she hadn’t considered the innocent traders. A glance told her that a couple of the others were watching from the Posh Nosh doorway – Teo in a white apron and Mark in a brown smock. She’d begun to view the Carlysle Courtyard folk as her friends. She knew Mark lived with a cousin because his wife asked him to leave the family home, that Daintree wore headscarves because she’d developed alopecia during a past, abusive relationship. Perla and Teo had borrowed family money to start their business.