‘We’ve recently made a wildlife area,’ Beamish explained as we reached the kitchens which were set behind the large school hall. ‘There’s a pond with a dipping platform and lots of bug homes and bird boxes. I would show you that too, but it’s a bit muddy and I’m not sure your smart boots would appreciate it.’

‘You could give her a fireman’s lift!’ someone hollered from the depths of the kitchen.

Beamish pushed open the door and leaned inside.

‘I’m not sure she’d appreciate that,’ said Beamish. ‘We hardly know each other.’

‘You can practise on me, if you like,’ said a plump girl wearing a blue hairnet and matching tabard apron.

‘You leave him alone,’ said Mrs Cook, the matriarch in charge.

She’d worked at the school for, well not quite as long as Dolly, but not far off. Every September, with the new intake, she had to put up with the hilarity her name caused but she bore it all with good grace.

‘How are you, Harriet?’ she asked, appearing with a ladle in one hand and a spatula in the other. ‘I heard you were coming back. You really are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you? And at Christmas of all times! You’ll be exhausted come the big day.’

‘My goodness,’ I laughed, ‘good news travels fast around here, doesn’t it?’

‘This is Wynbridge, love,’ she said with a wink, ‘nothing stays secret for long.’

When we found ourselves at the car park, I told Beamish I would walk back to the cottage and come back, as I’d promised Mr Matthews, at the end of the day.

‘I’m heading into town for some materials,’ he explained. ‘I’ll give you a lift if you like or, if you’re feeling strong, you could give me a hand first and then I’ll drop you back at Dolly’s after.’

‘What are you collecting?’

‘Some timber. The stage needs a couple of repairs and the teachers need to be using it for rehearsals to get the kids used to the space as soon as possible. We don’t want anyone diving off the front like last year.’

I thought it best not to ask. I knew that by the end of term I’d have enough educational anecdotes to dine out on for months. Not that I could imagine Jonathan would find them particularly amusing, should I ever decide to tell him about my time in school.

‘All right,’ I agreed, ‘I’ll help you first, although I’m sure you could get it all delivered.’

‘We would as a rule,’ he said, pointing out where he’d parked the truck, ‘but the van the store uses is off the road today.’

‘Couldn’t you order from somewhere else, or try online?’ I suggested. ‘It would probably be cheaper.’