I was pleased that Sam wasn’t so caught up in his own head at the moment that he hadn’t realized that he’d upset one of his most regular and loyal customers. It said a lot about him that he had bothered to make amends.

‘Well, I’m pleased you did decide to come,’ I smiled at George. ‘Because I didn’t much fancy having to play opposite him myself.’

‘That’s as maybe,’ George sympathetically carried on, keeping his voice low so no one else could hear, ‘but we all know the real reason why he’s in such a bad mood these days. Not that we’d dare to mention it in front of him, of course.’

He cast a quick glance over at the bar where Sam was putting the relief lad who had finally turned up through his paces. Neither of them looked particularly happy so I daresay Sam was bending the guy’s ear about being so late, which I supposed was fair enough when he should have been at his post at least an hour ago.

‘Obviously I wasn’t a Wynmouth regular when the crash happened,’ George carried on, pulling my attention back to him, ‘but it doesn’t take a genius to understand that something like that has a lifelong impact. And I’m not just talking about Sam’s leg.’

‘I know what you mean,’ I said, leaning further over the table. ‘His head’s suffering as much as his body right now, isn’t it?’

‘It certainly is, my dear,’ George agreed, laying down his first tiles and scoring seventy-five speedy points with ‘squeeze’.

How he’d managed to draw those letters and focus on putting them together so quickly given the conversation we were having was beyond me and, of course, his score was doubled because he’d won the chance to start the game off. I had the feeling I was in for a masterclass in the art of pulling words out a hat or, in this case, a little cotton drawstring bag.

‘Oh, well done, George,’ I said sportingly as I scribbled down his score.

‘Thank you, my dear,’ he beamed, diving back into the bag to replenish his tiles.

He looked at me again once he’d finished arranging them, no doubt in some sort of impressive order.

‘I understand you and the chap responsible for our landlord’s loss of humour have struck up a bit of a friendship,’ he said casually.

‘That’s right.’

‘Only natural I suppose,’ he sniffed. ‘Two new folk in the village being drawn to one another.’

‘Joe’s hardly new to Wynmouth,’ I pointed out. ‘His family have been here longer than most.’

‘True,’ nodded George. ‘And they’re not exactly having an easy time of it either, are they?’

‘No,’ I said, grateful that he sounded sympathetic. ‘They’re not.’