With that, the fish and chips turned up. ‘There you go, Emma. Enjoy.’ Rob, the chef, handed them over.

‘Thanks, I’m absolutely famished.’ They smelt delicious even through the foil carton and packaging. She might just have to sneak a chip on the way back up the hill. It had to be done! ‘Thanks, Rob. I’m sure they’ll be delicious.’

‘Cheers, Emma.’

She settled up at the bar, and back at the shop, she and Max sat side by side on the wooden floor eating crispy batter and flaky chunks of cod, with salt and vinegar. She’d found a couple of cans of Diet Coke in the fridge to go with it.

It was, in fact, one of the best meals she’d had in ages.

‘Delicious,’ Max stated, as he forked up the last of his chips.

‘Just right,’ Emma agreed.

‘Well, let’s get back to work again.’ Max was keen to crack on. ‘This window seat isn’t going to make itself. Here goes.’

It was twenty to twelve when they decided to call it a night. Max looked pretty stiff as he stood up and stretched. Emma was feeling achy too. She’d been keeping busy in the kitchen, popping through to see if Max needed help here and there. The physical work of the day was taking its toll, finding muscles she hadn’t used in an age. She yawned.

‘Right, I suppose I’d better get away.’ Max looked at her.

‘Oh.’ She hadn’t even considered where he would stay, but she hadn’t imagined him going all the way back home. Of course, coming up last minute he wouldn’t have booked a B&B for tonight and it was too late now to contact the pub, or anywhere else for that matter.

‘You can’t drive all that way back now. And – and won’t you need to come back up to finish the job?’ She sounded a bit cheeky, she knew, but she hoped he wasn’t going to leave the job half-finished. It would be hard to reopen the shop at all, if so.

‘Yes, that’s what I was going to do, head home. Then come back up early tomorrow morning, try and get this done before I need to be in Gateshead – got to check on a job there in the afternoon. It’s the only day the owners are about.’