He really was worth his weight in gold. I didn’t think I’d ever met anyone as indispensable in so many areas. From what I had discovered so far, he was always on hand to help anyone and everyone at the drop of a hat and I wondered if there was a reason why he always kept himself so busy. It made me feel a little guilty when I considered my own life. I hadn’t been doling out many acts of kindness lately and, as uncharitable as it might have been to think it, Jonathan was no better. We were both pretty self-centred, placed firmly at the top of our own lists, whereas Beamish, I was sure would add himself at the very bottom of his.

‘What would everyone do without you, Beamish?’ I laughed.

He ducked his head and shrugged, but didn’t answer.

It was a struggle to stop my jaw hitting the floor when we crossed the café threshold. I almost got a sugar rush just from walking in. The scent of cinnamon and orange filled the air and I made a bee-line for the jars of iced gingerbread characters which were lined up along the counter. The café was always pretty, but even I had to admit, dressed for Christmas it was exquisite.

‘If you take a seat,’ said a lady wearing a candy cane patterned apron, ‘One of us will be over to take your order. Good morning, Beamish,’ she added with a smile.

Ladies’ favourite, as well as worth his weight in gold it seemed. Although that wasn’t really fair because, from what I’d deduced so far, he was every bit as popular with the men too.

‘Good morning, Angela.’ He smiled back.

We found a table in what had originally been the area set aside for Lizzie Dixon’s crafting classes. Lizzie, Beamish explained, now ran her classes and courses in the gallery.

‘And of course, they have the vintage caravan tea room and seasonal market stall too.’

‘Wow,’ I said, ‘it’s quite a business they’ve built up, isn’t it?’

I had always known that the perfect pairing of Jemma, the café owner and Lizzie, her clever crafting pal, were hard-working and a force to be reckoned with, but now their business was turning into an empire. I admired them very much.

‘It certainly is,’ Beamish agreed. ‘From what I’ve heard since I moved back, the town’s recent turnaround has been largely down to the dynamic duo.’

After Angela had taken our order – a latte and a gingerbread man for me and an Americano and bacon and avocado bagel for Beamish – my interest in him was somewhat piqued.

‘So,’ I began, ‘you haven’t always lived in the town then?’