The girls smiled. Mrs Clark used the term ‘bugger’ freely and easily, as anyone else might use the word ‘devil’. It was the only swear word she did use, which made it seem humorous rather than offensive. She was certainly a character, having lived in the village all of her life, and her parents and grandparents before her. She’d often stay for a while in the shop and chat, telling them tales of life in the olden days in the village and the fishing community here. One of Emma’s favourite stories was the one about the fisherwomen who used to rock their cradles with their feet, so they could keep their hands free to bait the lines at the same time. It sounded a hard life, though, with poverty and disease rife in the village, but there was always mention of the happier times, too: the dances, celebrations, weddings, christenings. Emma could still recognise that community spirit since moving here to Warkton-by-the-Sea.

‘Yes, that might be a thought,’ Emma agreed. Some of her elderly customers would be glad of that, the chance to have a sit-down, before heading back down the village hill again.

They watched the old lady slowly pack her chocolate brazils into her large navy blue handbag, which reminded Em of something the queen might have, then set herself away. ‘Back home for a nice cup of coffee now. Better wrap myse’n up a bit first, mind.’ She tightened the scarf around her neck. ‘There’s a chill wind out there today. And still a chance of rain. Take care, me dears.’

‘Thanks, and you too, Mrs Clark.’

‘Bye.’

‘Bye, dears.’

And all was quiet once more. Holly gave a little sigh.

‘What’s up?’

‘Do you think he might come back?’

There was no doubt who Holly was mooning over. Funny, those words had been flitting through Emma’s head these past few weeks too. Not over the same guy, of course.

‘Ah, I expect so. He’s been in twice. Seems like he might be local or a regular visitor at least.’

‘Or maybe just a holidaymaker on a two-week holiday, and that was it.’ Holly looked dejected.

‘Maybe. You’ll just have to wait and see, Hols.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Time for a cuppa?’

‘Yeah, why not. Thanks.’

Emma went to click the kettle on.

They had their tea sat on stools in the kitchen. They’d soon pop through if they heard the shop door go.

‘So, what’s the latest with that Tom lad at school?’ Em asked.

‘Hah, nothing – exactly nothing. It’s like I don’t exist.’

‘Aw, sorry to hear it, Hols. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.’