Naomi smiled. ‘I shan’t say a word.’

Her head tilted back, Willow sniffed the air as an appetising waft of frying onions drifted over from the hot-dog stall run by the PTA from the village school. ‘Do you want me to fetch you anything to eat or drink?’ she asked.

‘No thanks. For now, I’ll pinch one of those strawberries, if you don’t mind,’ Naomi said. ‘By the way, have you warned Rick to go easy on Jennifer’s Pimm’s?’

Willow held out the tub to her. ‘I tried, but he laughed at my warning, said it would take more than a bit of pepped-up lemonade to catch him out.’

‘Just as well you’re staying the night, then,’ Naomi said with a smile.

After serving another customer, there were just the not so attractive-looking cakes left to sell now – an overcooked fruit loaf that was as heavy as a brick and a few fairy cakes which had probably been iced and decorated by a heavy-handed child – Naomi turned back to her daughter.

‘It’s so lovely being here today,’ Willow said as she watched a group of giggling girls walking by while licking ice-lollies. ‘I love that nothing ever seems to change in Tilsham.’

There was a wistfulness to her voice, which made Naomi look at her more closely. Often when somebody spoke of enjoying a particular kind of status quo it was because it gave them a sense of stability that was missing in their life. Did Willow regret moving in with Rick? Was Willow about to do what she always did at this stage in a relationship, bail out?

‘Nothing really stays the same,’ Naomi said carefully, ‘it might look like it does on the surface, but there are plenty of changes going on here.’ It was on the tip of her tongue to say, look at me, look how I’ve changed, but she thought better of it. Instead she said, ‘If the vicar has her way, there’ll be no Punch and Judy next year. She thinks it’s past its sell-by date and sets a bad example to children.’

‘I suppose she has a point,’ Willow said after a small pause. ‘I never really liked it as a child. The puppets scared me.’

‘I remember it made you very upset one year.’

Willow stared off into the distance, as though bringing the episode to memory. ‘I expect I was just being silly,’ she said. ‘Dad and Martha were always telling me I was too much of a cry-baby.’

‘You were no such thing. You were just more sensitive than your sister, that’s all. Oh look, here come the others.’

‘Anything decent left for us to eat?’ asked Tom as they all gathered in front of the trestle tables. He looked with disappointment at the unappealing cakes that were left. ‘I guess not,’ he said, answering his own question.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Naomi, ‘I have a cake in the larder back at home which I made specially for you. It’s your favourite.’