‘I have now,’ she said, indicating a small basket next to the stoked open fire. ‘Come and meet Tiddles. And don’t look so worried, she doesn’t live up to her name.’

The little tortoiseshell cat was sound asleep. A most unlikely looking scrap to make a bid for freedom.

‘Now, I know you aren’t a huge cat fan.’ Dolly said, squeezing my arm.

That was putting it mildly.

‘But I don’t think you really are allergic, are you?’

‘Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?’ I said tentatively. ‘But she’s not really yours, is she?’

‘She belonged to my old neighbour, Bob,’ Dolly explained. ‘He died a month or so ago and his family refused to give a home to either of his cats so I took on Tiddles.’

‘And I took on Tiny, her sister.’ Beamish added.

He didn’t look like the cat-loving kind to me and there was a certain irony about the name of the puss he had taken on, but I forbore to comment.

‘Don’t they mind being apart?’ I asked instead. ‘Tiddles looks pretty ancient to me, doesn’t she mind being away from her sibling?’

‘Not at all,’ said Beamish, ‘they used to fight all the time. They’re both far happier in separate homes.’

‘But it’s such a big commitment,’ I said, turning back to Dolly. ‘What if you want to go on holiday once you’ve properly retired. What’s going to happen to her if you want to leave Wynbridge for a few days?’

Dolly had been practically tied to the town her entire life and now, just as she had the opportunity to explore fresh horizons and find a new hotel to visit, she’d taken on something else to tether her down.

‘Why would anyone ever want to leave Wynbridge?’ Beamish belted out, his booming laugh making Tiddles’ ears twitch.

He might have been supersized in nature, but he was obviously a local lad with a small-town attitude.

‘And who am I going to go and see?’ Dolly asked. ‘You certainly aren’t going to be just a train ride away now, are you, Hattie dear?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘I suppose not.’

‘Anyway,’ she carried on, ‘now the introductions are over, let’s have some tea, shall we? I’ve baked some scones especially for the occasion.’

‘Not for me, thank you, Dolly,’ said Beamish, somehow assuming he’d been included in the party. ‘I still have another job to do this afternoon.’

It was on the tip of my tongue to suggest that he should give his truck a bit of a clean before he picked up his next fare, but I bit it back. Given our rural location, his next passengers might have been a gaggle of geese for all I knew.