They stood awkwardly for a moment, Ellen keen to get on but not wanting to seem rude to her friend, Edward reading that thought in her face and beginning to wish he’d gone straight home. He must think of something to say, and quickly.

‘Would you like—’

‘Well, I really must—’

They both spoke at once.

‘Please, you first,’ said Ellen.

‘I’m just wondering if you’d like to come for a walk up the field this evening – after you’ve finished work, of course. Mum could pack up a tea for us.’

‘Thank you, I’d love to,’ said Ellen. ‘It’d be nice to catch up on everyone’s news. I’ve been so busy since I started here.’

Edward took the hint. ‘Come over whenever you’re ready, then.’

‘I’ll look forward to it.’ Smiling, Ellen picked up her dibber to resume her task while Edward turned to leave, grinning.

At midday Tom reappeared and told Ellen it was time to stop working.

‘Oh, the time just flies by when I’m busy,’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise it was so late.’

‘Well, it’s library day,’ Tom reminded her, ‘so we’d best get a move on if we don’t want to be fined next time for late returns.’

‘I hadn’t forgotten,’ said Ellen, and went to the shed to collect the books she’d brought with her.

Tom and Ellen walked down the drive to the main gate together, meeting Mrs Thwaite coming the other way carrying a small pile of books, and found the van parked neatly up against Tom’s cottage. Tom nipped inside to fetch his books while Ellen mounted the steps and presented hers, opening them at the pages with the date stamps and the little cardboard pockets.

The usual librarian, Mr Shepherd, wasn’t there today. Instead there was a younger man with round wire-rimmed glasses and a severe haircut, which could not disguise that he was very good-looking.

‘Mr Shepherd not well?’ asked Ellen. She’d grown fond of the kindly librarian with his gentle manner and knowledgeable reading recommendations, even about light fiction.

‘Mr Shepherd’s been assigned to the archives,’ said the new man.

‘Oh …’ Ellen was worried. Was that a discreet way of saying he’d been forced into retirement? He was getting on in years but he hadn’t said anything about retiring when he last came by. ‘And does he … is he quite happy about that?’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ said the man abruptly. ‘Why do you ask?’

Goodness, what a rude man! ‘Well, it’s only … well, Mr Shepherd’s been the librarian for a long time and … folk are fond of him.’

‘Aye, in Little Grindle we care about folk,’ said Tom, coming in with his books. ‘We’re like that round here.’ He gave the new man a stern look but it didn’t soften his manner.