And despite the jet lag and being outside in the biting cold—ill-equipped in her Melbourne winter attire—and despite being deprived of a decent shower that morning, Chloe was in her element and feeling the satisfaction of a job done well. She was also basking in the Christmassy goodness of it all, glad that she’d come all this way.

She felt a presence beside her. Archer—another reason to be glad.

“You’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Honestly, it’s run like clockwork. That’s kudos to your mum.”

“You’ve impressed her, and she likes you, I can tell.”

“Well, I think she’s amazing. She must have done this as her career, right?”

“Running events?”

“Yeah.”

“No, not as a career, but she’s always been the organiser for village events, ever since I can remember.”

“That makes sense. She clearly knows her stuff and she’s very well respected. I’ve learnt so much from her today. I’ve loved it; it’s been reinvigorating.”

“How so?”

“Just that a lot of the events I run back home can be kind of tick-a-box, you know? I’m starting to contemplate a move to something else career-wise. Maybe dirty-dish-tourism will take off.”

That sparked a loud laugh. “But seriously, well done you for today.”

She dipped in a tiny curtsey and shrugged one shoulder in mock modesty.

“Chloe?” Cecily. Chloe dropped the little performance and subconsciously stood to attention.

“Hi, yes, Cecily. It’s all going so well. I was just saying to Archer.”

“Quite.” Still no smile. Chloe doubted Archer was right about Cecily liking her—respecting her, maybe. “You’ve been very helpful, but I do need one more thing, dear.”

“Sure, yeah, no problem.”

“Actually, I need you, too, Archer. It seems that Mrs Capel has wandered off and got herself all the way to The Lord Nelson. They’ve just telephoned. Can you go and collect her? I’ve got to find Mr Capel. He’s somewhere in this crowd and he must be frantic.”

Chloe and Archer shared a quick look before they both responded in the affirmative. “Best to take the Range Rover. Your car won’t really do, will it?” Archer’s car, as Chloe had discovered the day before, was a vintage MG—beautiful, but hardly suitable for collecting a wayward pensioner.

Cecily held out a set of keys and Archer took them from her. “I’ll take that, dear. No need of it now.” She indicated the clipboard and Chloe handed it over.

“This way.” Archer weaved through the crowd and Chloe struggled to keep up. At least she could see his head above most others, carving a path. They cleared the field and he strode around the back of his mother’s house to the garage. “It’s a tight fit, so I’ll back out before you climb in.”

“Has she done this before?” Chloe asked as they zoomed down the narrow lane. She remembered the day before when she’d nearly been hit by a car and how Archer said that everyone sped around here. Including you, she thought.

“Mrs Capel? Yes. More and more these days, I’m told.”