The ironwork arrangement that Jack had dropped in the night before sat on one end of the bar, adorned with her bracelets and bottle decorations. She ran her fingers under a bracelet, feeling the comforting smoothness of the beads. Maggie had helped her to decide on a price for each piece. Keely had never sold any of her jewellery before and had been sternly berated by Maggie for underestimating the value of her work.

The polished-wood top of the bar gleamed. Glasses were stacked in the shelves underneath alongside the wine fridge, and there were bundles of dark green paper carry bags, bearing the Levallier Dell label, neatly stacked on another shelf. Keely thought back to the tense scene she’d walked into the previous afternoon. Flynn must have ordered the straw-handled bags especially for the weekend and Euan hadn’t been happy about that, either.

Beyond the bar, the large floor area was scattered with small tables and chairs. Taller stools were pulled up to the keg tables they’d used for the party. Keely cast her gaze sideways to the rendered wall that joined the house, then turned to face the wall full on. Hanging near the bar, with framed certificates about prizewinning wines, was her original sketch of Euan. It was in a rustic frame, and the wood looked like it had come from an old paling post. It suited the sketch perfectly.

“Good morning.” Maggie entered from the house door carrying an armload of welded metal shapes. “Doesn’t your picture look great? Jack made the frame up for me and brought it back when he called in to drop off these table number holders this morning.” She nodded at the jumble of metal she held in her arms. “Can you give me a hand?”

Keely stepped forward to help as Maggie deposited her load on the top of the nearest table.

“Aren’t they delightful?” Maggie chuckled. She had disentangled a shape from the pile and held it up for Keely to see.

The figure was formed from welded metal that had been painted black like the arrangement that held her jewellery. This one had a coiled base to allow it to stand and one outstretched arm had a gap where a cardboard square with a number on it was slotted in. Keely smiled. It looked like a small scarecrow.

“A man of many talents is Jack Telford.” Maggie began to untangle the rest of the small figures. “I worry that the next generation may not be skilled in some of these old crafts.”

They put one of the scarecrow figures clutching its cardboard number on each table.

“I hope it goes well today,” Keely said.

“It won’t be through lack of effort, if it doesn’t.”

They were silent for a moment as they both surveyed the room.

“How’s Euan this morning?” Keely asked.