Hannah jumped and almost dropped the scraps bucket for the chickens. ‘Adrienne! Morning. It was… it was great.’ Conor had told Adrienne? She hadn’t expected that.

‘I hear you had a great time. Conor was…’ – she smiled in that knowing way – ‘most enthusiastic.’

Hannah felt the blush staining her cheeks. ‘Although I gather you were less than impressed with Patrick.’ Adrienne’s mouth pursed. ‘He’s been with us for a long time and I’ve a tremendous sense of loyalty, but I think the time has come for us to consider someone younger and more local. I understand you know Aidan Fitzpatrick.’

‘I do. I was at university with him and I’ve worked with him. He’s diligent and thorough… and he’s a real terrier on behalf of his clients.’

‘That’s good to know.’ Adrienne nodded her head thoughtfully. ‘I’ll feel guilty about Patrick but we’ve known for a while his heart isn’t really in it.’

‘I can imagine, but I think he’ll probably be glad not to have anything interrupt the racing.’

Adrienne laughed. ‘That’s very true. Although going to see him was always a good excuse to visit Dublin. It really is lovely.’

‘Oh yes, I loved it. In fact, I love Ireland full stop.’ Hannah gazed out over the view, the hens fussing around her feet like a welcoming committee. There was something about this place that had got under her skin. The slower pace of life, the sense of community, and the warmth of the people, from complete strangers to old friends. She felt at home here and as she watched the white crests dancing on a deep-navy sea beyond the rich-green carpet lining the coast where the hills rolled right down the water, stopped by the ragged cliff edges, a sense of peace filled her. She really didn’t want to go home.

With a heavy sigh, she said. ‘I’m not sure I ever want to leave.’ Attila pecked around her feet, as always in search of the juiciest scraps, and Hannah threw her a couple of pieces of apple, feeling like an old hand. She’d come to love the ladies and relished this curious and unexpected sense of belonging. All her life she’d been a city girl but she fitted here.

‘Well don’t,’ said Adrienne, as if it was as easy as that. ‘Stay.’

Hannah stared at her. ‘I can’t.’ She watched the hen pecking the food, her feathers bristling and shaking in greedy ecstasy.

‘Of course you can’t,’ agreed Adrienne, with surprising alacrity, and then she added, ‘if you don’t want to.’ Her expression held a touch of smugness.