I finish my muffin and slurp the last of my coffee, then pull my hair over my shoulder and try to finger-comb it into resembling something other than a rats’ nest. I push my fingers through the top and flatten it down, trying to work it into a plait without a mirror.

I can feel him watching me and it makes me blush even though there’s no reason to. When I tie the end with the spare band that’s always on my wrist and flip it back over my shoulder, I feel fluttery for no reason at all.

‘Welcome to the lively, buzzing centre of Elffield.’ Noel slows down when we eventually reach a more built-up area. I’ve lost track of how long we’ve been driving. The distance between things seems so wide here, and everything seems so far away from everything else.

I realise he’s being sarcastic as we turn down a narrow street with houses on both sides. Among them is a post office on one side and a convenience shop on the other. That’s it.

‘We’re a village that relies solely on our market, but there’s a good community here. We support our own.’ He lifts a hand and points directly ahead of us. ‘That’s the market.’

I look towards a large set of pillars ahead of us. They look like columns from ancient Rome, holding up the sharp angled roof of a covered market building. The lights are on inside, making it look warm and inviting, and the area in front of the entrance is paved with slabs in shades of grey. Noel drives around it and takes a narrow side street that winds around the back of the huge building and eventually opens up to another set of pillars wide enough to let vehicles through. ‘Trade entrance,’ he says. ‘If you sell trees here, get customers to drive round this way to load their car, it’s much easier than dragging an eight-foot spruce between all the stallholders.’

I nod, wishing I’d brought a notebook and pen to jot all his tips down. I’m never going to remember all of this. Also, just how heavy are eight-foot trees?

I’ve never seen anyone drive as slowly as Noel creeps through the wide market lane, already buzzing with people setting up their stalls. There are people on stepladders stringing up bunting and fairy lights across their awning, people carrying crates of goods to and from their cars, and people merrily chatting away with cups of coffee in hand.