James turned up about an hour later. Little Lucy was with him, beaming and following her dad who was carrying two chairs.

‘Hello, Auntie Emma. Oh, who are they?’ The little girl stopped, surprised to find other people in the shop.

‘That’s Max and Nick. They’re helping make the seats for the new coffee shop here.’

Lucy studied the two men seriously, then nodded.

Max gave her a grin, and Nick gave a nod.

‘Will you do milkshakes too, Auntie Emma? I don’t like coffee.’

‘Of course, that’s actually a brilliant idea, Luce. Chocolate milkshakes. And maybe hot chocolates for the winter. What do you think?’

‘I think that sounds good. As long as they have marshmallows on the top.’

‘I think we can manage that.’ Emma smiled. ‘So, you’re helping Daddy today.’

‘Yes. Olivia had to stay with Mummy – he couldn’t do two of us. They’re doing sewing.’ She pulled a yuck kind of face at that. ‘We had to split up. It’s better doing furniture stuff.’

‘Are they making my cushions, by any chance?’

‘Yep.’

‘Well, that will be a big help to me. Of course, this is a big help too. What would I do without you lovely lot, hey?’ She looked up at James meaningfully as she spoke. ‘Come on then, Luce, you can go choose some chocolates from the back kitchen. I’ve had to move them all for now, but there’s still some in there. Choose something for you and something to take home for Olivia.’

‘What about Dad?’ called James after them hopefully. ‘He’s a helper too.’

Emma could hear his deep laugh. He loved her salted caramels. She’d definitely find a pack of those for him too.

‘What about the woodworkers? We like chocolate too,’ came Max’s warm, cheeky tones.

When the girls returned, Lucy clutching her chocolate bounty, James was chatting happily with the two men. Her brother then headed off once more on a second run to fetch the tables.

By 2.00 p.m. the shop was buzzing. Max and Nick were working away on the seating tops. Nick had suggested making them hinged so the inside could be used for storage, a brilliant idea, because Emma’s display materials were currently crammed into a cupboard upstairs – you went looking for a favourite jumper and were at risk of attack from Easter bunnies, mini-foil Christmas trees, tinsel, baubles, the works.

Bev and Pete had popped in to see how things were taking shape and stayed to lend a hand. Em felt like she’d been shipped into that TV programme where they transform a whole house in forty-eight hours.

Bev glanced pointedly over at the best-looking of the two men at work. ‘So, I take it Max came to help then?’