She waved back to them, suddenly conscious of how conspicuous she was, wearing her floral shirt and jeans; she was the only person there not clad in Rosella Cove’s black and white or Woodville’s blue and yellow.

Around the oval locals and visitors, distinct in their opposing colours, sat on picnic blankets and stood in small groups. When the starting horn sounded, an almighty cheer rose up from the many spectators.

She made her way over to the hill, where Mandy greeted her with a hug and poured her a coffee from the thermos at her feet. This early-round match against their arch rivals was going to be tough, apparently, and an extra supporter was very welcome.

Nicole looked around the crowd, watching the faces turn from anguish to delight to disbelief as try-saving tackles were made, field goals scored and penalties given, and she realised she was smiling. The noise from the crowd, in particular the screaming from Cheryl and Jim, the plumber Mandy had arranged to fix Nicole’s shower, made it almost impossible to have a conversation, and for that she was thankful.

Once upon a time, people-watching was her favourite activity. She hadn’t done it for so long now and as she watched the crowd around her, she could feel a familiar pull.

Her heart warmed at the sheer joy on the face of the little boy from Woodville in a replica Wolves’ jersey watching his dad cross the line, and she laughed at the old grandma wrapped from head to toe in the Rosella Cove Rangers’ black and white stripes cursing the ref who was bloody blind and might move a damn sight quicker if he borrowed her Zimmer frame.

Nicole’s mind was taking in everything and she could feel the fuzzy outlines of potential scenes and book characters starting to form. These old habits that had led to her becoming a writer were resurfacing after so long dormant, that it thrilled and terrified her in equal measure. Could she write again? Did she want to?

At the half-time horn, the Rangers were down a try. Nicole followed Mandy and Jack to the sausage sizzle line and got herself a banger with onions in a slice of home-brand white bread. Jack went and found the team to lend his dad some moral support as he tried to rally the troops, and Mandy steered Nicole towards the market stalls.

There were padded, lace-covered coathangers and knitted bears, granny-square afghans and toilet-roll dollies, apple teacakes and chocolate rough slices. There was a stall selling children’s wooden toys, and one with jewellery made from beads of garish colour and stones so big Nicole wondered whose hand or neck would be strong enough to hold them.