‘It would indeed.’ Judy gave her a grateful smile.

Daisy rose to her feet. ‘I think this is a very exciting venture, Judy. I hope it will prove to be a great success.’

The inn sign was cleaned and oiled, and Pip fixed it securely so that it swung gently and silently in the breeze. Daisy had supplied several old mattresses, taken from the storeroom, and some bedding that was considered too old for use at Colneyhurst, even for the servants’ quarters. Hilda set to and neatly darned the blankets, all of which were washed and hung out to dry in the fresh air. The most worn of all were consigned to the family rooms, which left the largest bedchamber for any traveller who might want a bed for the night. Similarly, the only refreshment they could offer, apart from tea and coffee, was a barrel of beer that Pip and Nate had manhandled onto a trestle behind the bar, before they returned to their duties at Colneyhurst. The menu was equally limited and unless their future customers wanted anything other than rabbit stew and freshly baked bread, they would have to go elsewhere, but as the only other hostelry was the one in the village, more than two miles away, Judy was hopeful that they might attract passing trade.

On the first day they opened for business there was a steady flow of customers, especially in the evening, but Judy was quick to realise that it was curiosity that had brought the fishermen and farm workers to the door of the Crooked Billet. No one wanted the rabbit stew, one burly workman saying that he could get better at home for next to nothing. Judy dropped the price that evening until they were almost giving the food away, but it was cash in hand, and the money they took on the cask of ale would just about cover the cost of buying a replacement next day. When the ale ran out there was a grumbling exodus of dissatisfied customers, leaving Judy and Hilda to collapse on the settle by the fire with what was left of the stew for their own supper.

‘Have we made a terrible mistake, as Nick said?’ Hilda paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. ‘I doubt if we’ve made any profit today.’

Judy broke off a piece of bread and dipped it in her bowl. ‘It’s only the first day. We have to build up a reputation, and we need to get more stock.’

‘What with?’ Hilda demanded crossly. ‘I haven’t got another penny. What about you?’

‘No, but there’s the cash we’ve taken. That will buy a keg of ale, and at least we have somewhere to sleep, and food to eat.’

Hilda did not look impressed and they finished their meal in silence. Outside the wind had got up and it was howling mercilessly around the building, like souls in torment.

‘You go to bed, Ma,’ Judy said as she piled the plates on a tray. ‘I’ll lock up.’