‘I gave up when I was sixty-five, a few years after Granddad died, so you’d have been seven. I miss the liveliness,’ Nan said reflectively. Across the room, the blokey blokes groaned at something on TV and Ben Bell got up to play the gambling machine. He caught sight of Nan and grinned and winked.

When he’d finished with the machine, which, judging from its triumphant burp and jingle, was victorious in the encounter, he crossed to where they sat in the warmth of the wood burner. ‘What have you been doing to yourself?’ he demanded, indicating Nan’s cast. ‘Been in a fight?’ Though he joked, concern clouded his eyes.

‘Yes – you should see the other bloke.’ Nan beamed. ‘How are you, Ben?’

Hannah listened while they chatted. Bell, in his mid-forties now, was courteous with Nan though his usual persona was loud and brash. He’d once been known for the kind of ‘jokes’ that made women uncomfortable but he’d toned that down in the past few years. Presently, he replenished his pint at the bar and wandered back to rejoin the other blokey blokes before the TV.

Nan watched him go. ‘Seeing Ben reminds me – that boy Nico phoned me on Sunday when you were at the supermarket. His ex’s family want him to look after the little girl again, Maria, and he asked my advice.’

‘Really? You didn’t tell me.’ A shiver tingled through Hannah at Nico’s name, even prefaced with ‘that boy’, as Nan termed him.

Nan shrugged, settling her plastered wrist more comfortably. ‘He’s a good man and has a soft spot for the little tot. I told him to think whether he actually can take her in rather than whether he should. Two-year-olds don’t look after themselves.’

Hannah digested this along with her next sips of ale, contrasting the hot, intense Nico she’d danced with at the wedding with the remote and chilly Nico that last time at Hörnan. ‘Lots of men would have told their ex to get lost,’ she observed neutrally, wondering how Nico having Maria fit in with him and Loren ‘working on things’.

Nodding sagely, Nan polished off the rest of her wine. ‘Lots. I’m not so much in the mood for salad now. I fancy chips. And they do a scrumptious chocolate tart.’

The evening slipped by. People came over to chat: first Ratty and Tess, who’d left their little boy with his grandparents while they enjoyed a date night. Next was the ever-present small, blonde Carola, who left her partner Owen chatting at the bar to come over. ‘I hope you’ll make the seniors village hall Christmas party?’ she said to Nan.

Nan nodded. ‘Hope so. Me and Hannah will come by The Angel soon, too. I like your shortbread Christmas angels dipped in chocolate.’

Carola beamed. ‘I hope we have another good year and that the new place won’t affect us.’