Wynmouth was, surprisingly, a hotbed of young musical talent and Sam had agreed to let two star turns sing in the beer garden during the afternoon. They were both solo artists so there was no complicated setting up or acoustic arrangements to worry about and their presence would warm the atmosphere up nicely for the main event in the evening. They were both happy to sing for nothing – aside from their supper – and said the experience and exposure would be wonderful as they were trying to get established locally.

‘How’s everything shaping up?’ I asked Sam, as I crossed the pub threshold extra early to help set up and run through the lists we had devised to ensure nothing was forgotten.

‘Very well,’ said Sam, puffing out his cheeks. ‘Running like clockwork so far.’

‘Well, you needn’t sound so surprised,’ I laughed.

His tone implied he couldn’t believe his luck.

‘This is, for the most part, a Tess Tyler production,’ I reminded him. ‘Everything will run like clockwork.’

‘Are you going to let me take the credit for anything?’

‘Only if something goes wrong,’ I said, with a grin. ‘Which it won’t, so . . . no.’

Sam stuck out his tongue and I laughed again. It might not have been what I had planned to do when I first booked my secret seaside escape, but I was thoroughly enjoying myself and having a lot of fun. Fun in my life had been rather thin on the ground of late, so it was very much appreciated, even if I was still, every now and again, having to force myself to stop thinking about family, phones and the fact that I’d run away.

‘Coming through,’ said a voice behind me, and I quickly moved out of the way. ‘I’ve got the surf here,’ said Toby, the lad from the fishmonger’s, ‘and Mike’s right behind me with the turf. Where do you want it all, Sam?’

I left the menfolk organizing the eats and mulling over the best spot in the garden for the barbecue – what was it with men, meat and fire? – and began clearing the area next to the fireplace where the Sea Dogs would be setting up. If the evening turned chilly, Sam had said he would light the fire, but I reckoned there were going to be so many bodies crammed into the place we wouldn’t need to worry about providing any extra warmth. Consequently, I dotted a few extra candles in jars around the hearth and redistributed the lanterns, both of which would provide a cosy atmosphere without throwing out too much heat when the light began to fade.

‘You were right about the fire,’ said Sam, once the doors were open and the place began to steadily fill ahead of the early musical performances. ‘If folk keep turning up at this rate, there won’t even be standing room by tonight.’