‘I hope so, too. But time will tell.’

‘Is it all right if I go to the stables now and take Nate home with me? We really need him.’

‘Of course it is. I’ll make sure that he gets any wages owing to him. Goodbye, dear, and please remember what I said about the Dornings.’

Several weeks went by without any further visits from Wilfred. Slowly the customers began to trickle into the pub, but these were mainly farm workers on their way home from toiling in the fields, and a few fishermen. They drank a pint or two of cider or ale and then they went on their way. There had been no carriage trade, and there had been no sign of Dr Godfrey or the rush of business that he had predicted. Winter was almost upon them, and the proposed building of a new hospital seemed as far away as ever. Judy was beginning to wonder if Daisy had been right about Dr Godfrey. He might be well-meaning dreamer, or worse, a man who was prepared to take money from others with no intention of fulfilling his promises. Judy did not want to think ill of him, and his room was kept ready for him.

There had been no sign of Rob Dorning after his initial visit and it seemed to Judy that she had been correct in thinking that he had been passing through. She had put him out of her mind when, one frosty morning at the end of November, he strolled into the pub as if he had never been away.

Judy happened to be on her own in the taproom. She was polishing the oddments of old horse brasses that she had found in the stable, and had pinned to the beams that surrounded the bar. She was enveloped in a large apron with a scarf tied around her head, and she had not expected to see much trade until later in the day.

‘Good morning, Judy,’ Rob said cheerfully. ‘I can see that you’re busy.’

She wiped her hands on her apron. ‘I’m never too busy to serve a thirsty customer.’

‘Then I’ll have a pint of ale and something to eat, if you have your kitchen organised by now.’

Stung by his casual remark, she took off her soiled apron and laid it on the bar counter. ‘Of course we have. There’s a very good stew or …’ She racked her brains to think of something she could conjure up from bread and a heel of cheese, and then she remembered the apple pie that Hilda had made for their supper the previous evening. ‘There’s apple pie, too.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back, praying silently that Nate had not eaten the last slice.

‘A bowl of stew will be fine,’ Rob said easily. He went to sit in the inglenook while Judy pulled a pint of ale. She placed it on the table in front of him.

‘Have you got business in this part of the world, Mr Dorning?’