The lines of his face softened. ‘The choosing of Lucia, the handmaidens and the star boys will have taken place months ago. It’s a lovely time and we treat it like Christmas with our Swedish family. It’s best for Josie to be in England for Christmas so she can see her mum too.’ He moved the conversation back to Hannah. ‘So you like being your own boss?’

‘Definitely.’ Finally finished, she laid down her knife and fork. ‘This is my second venture. First time, I had a T-shirt printing business in a place called Creative Lanes down by the river in Bettsbrough. Do you remember The Embankment?’

He nodded. ‘On the road out of Bettsbrough towards Middledip.’

‘Creative Lanes is a group of off-high-street businesses. It was hard to make the T-shirt business pay – though I have the perfect surname and called it “Goodbodies” – so I took the job of assistant manager of the Lanes too. My then boyfriend, Luke, shared the unit, selling repurposed stuff like clocks made into paperweights and forks made into bracelets. When we split up he was obnoxious, trumping up complaints against me in my assistant manager role until I gave up the tenancy to him and joined IKEA for a complete change. It was so vast compared to Goodbodies. I learned a lot in sales, then customer support and customer relations. I came to Sweden with them. I had to learn Swedish but so many people speaking English helped.’

Nico had eaten most of his meal. He shoved the plate away as if showing it who was boss and Hannah bit back an impulse to compliment him on nearly clearing his plate. She went on, ‘I love Stockholm but I hankered after my own business again.’ She spread her hands. ‘And here I am.’

Now his ordeal by food was over, he pushed his chair back so he could cross his long legs. ‘Happy? I can tell Rob that, at least?’

‘He knows I love Hannah Anna Butik,’ she returned, once again keeping to herself the fact that her relationship with Albin was circling the drain. Rob would get big-brotherly with Albin and he deserved to enjoy the pre-wedding buzz without trying to fight her battles, even if she’d let him.

Nico nodded and signalled to the waiter so they could order coffee. ‘How’s your grandmother, Nan Heather? I remember how everyone in Middledip knew her.’

Hannah smiled at the thought of Nan, her small body and huge smile, twinkling eyes magnified through her glasses beneath a curly cap of silver hair. The way her voice creaked. ‘Because she fostered so many kids. The foster kids called her Aunt Heather originally but when Rob and I came along, calling her Nan, it segued somehow into Nan Heather.’

‘She can’t still be fostering?’ Nico’s eyes were half-shut as if he’d drunk a lot more than one modest glass of wine. It gave him a slightly dangerous air.