Her heart hammered and her palms sweated. She’d threatened Albin and wasn’t sorry. In fact, she thought she’d discovered a hitherto unsuspected Achilles heel. In the past she’d heard his high-flying friends gleefully recounting cut-and-thrust business negotiations but had had no understanding of why they relished them. Now she knew. Putting him at a disadvantage had made her feel powerful.

Then she remembered that it hadn’t got her any actual money and the feeling of power drained away. This tawdry bickering was all that was left between them. It was a sad end to what had been an exciting affair.

She trailed downstairs and found Nan opening the door to Carola who’d brought angel-shaped shortbreads dipped in chocolate, beaming from beneath her blonde fringe as she waved away their thanks. ‘They’re to make your wrist heal quicker, Heather.’

Tears pricked Hannah’s eyes at the unsolicited kindness. It was a symbol of everything that was right about Middledip. Warmth. Kindness. Likeable people.

The spat with Albin woke Hannah from her post-relationship, post-repatriation daze. She spent Saturday, apart from helping Nan, mired in admin and bureaucracy at the little square dining table.

She began by emailing Albin with the suggestion of a compensatory twelve per cent mark-up on stock for being so abruptly tipped out of Hannah Anna Butik. It’s modest, to take account of being spared overheads, she told him.

As a business transaction it was unsatisfactory and informal but going to a solicitor would be expensive and tricky as a non-Swedish national no longer living in Sweden. She turned her attention to change of address notifications and giving notice on her Swedish phone contract.

The phone in the kitchen rang and soon afterwards Nan poked her head around the door. ‘Gabe’s going into Bettsbrough so I’m going along for the ride.’

Hannah glanced up. ‘You don’t need me? Have a lovely time.’ She helped Nan with her coat, scarf and mittens and waved her off in Gabe’s small truck.

Next task on her list: tax authorities. She informed HMRC she was back in the UK but then stalled at knowing whether she should register as employed or self-employed, as she was currently neither. She left it for another day, along with completing a self-assessment to see if she could grab back some of the tax she’d paid in Sweden this year.

The website of Skatteverket or the Swedish Tax Authority walked her through the deregistration for ‘F tax’ and ‘mervärdesskatt’, Sweden’s VAT. Bleurgh, was the politest of her thoughts on the process. One thing about the lease being in Albin’s name was that it made winding up the business relatively easy. A sole trader was simply ceasing to trade, and never mind her aching heart.