‘You’ll get the hang of it.’ He looks up and meets my eyes. ‘Once you’ve done it a few times, you’ll get used to it. Give it a few weeks and you’ll be telling me what to do.’

I let out a laugh. ‘I can’t imagine anyone telling you what to do.’

‘You have met my mother, right?’ He pulls a face of pure terror and it sets me off giggling again.

I think he can hear that my laughter is covering my nerves, because he turns serious again. ‘Have you thought about taking on seasonal workers?’

The idea of employing people, of being responsible for other people’s livelihood, even for a few short months makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and it must show on my face because he chuckles.

‘It’s not that terrifying. Evergreene and I used to share seasonal workers, because your season begins just as mine ends. The same two blokes still work for me every autumn, they’re trustworthy and hard-working and they know what they’re doing on a Christmas tree farm. If you get in quick before they find festive work elsewhere, I’m sure they’d be overjoyed to stay on and work for you too. I guarantree it. Get it? Guaran-tree?’

I laugh, mainly at how pleased he is with himself for such an excellent pun. And it makes sense, I know that. It’s becoming increasingly obvious that I can’t manage this on my own.

‘One of the guys at the market used to be a groundsman for Evergreene. Keeping the weeds down, path maintenance, gritting in winter, that sort of thing, and I happen to know he’s between jobs at the moment. He helps out with his dad’s gingerbread stall across the aisle from mine, if you wanted to have a word. I’m going in the morning if you fancy tagging along? Meet some of the locals? You’ll love Fergus and Fiona. They’ll never admit it, but they’ve got a little flirtation going on between them, that’s always fun to watch. And believe me, once they get wind of this, everyone in Elffield will know about Peppermint Branches reopening, and it’s never too early to start getting the word out.’

‘Right. Er, okay,’ I say, wondering what exactly I’ve got myself into here. Then again, where would I be now if I was still in London? Staring at the wall behind my desk, inputting data that starts to blur because it’s so boring that it all looks the same. Pumpkins, gingerbread, and flirty pensioners have got to be more fun than that.