Chelsea Chalmers was much taller than me and I felt myself shrinking to Lilliputian proportions in her unwanted presence. In spite of all my efforts as a high school staff member to root out her kind and support any student who found themselves on the receiving end of negative singling out, I still couldn’t put into practice the techniques I had taught others.

‘Chelsea,’ I croaked, before clearing my throat and trying again. ‘Hi. Yes, you’re right. It is me.’

I pulled off Mum’s hat and ran a hand through my long dark hair, forcing myself to look at her.

‘You look… different…’ she faltered.

‘Well, I should hope so,’ I swallowed, ‘we haven’t seen each other in over ten years.’

‘That’s true,’ she said, ‘but as you can see, I haven’t changed a bit.’

‘No,’ I said, looking at her overly made-up face, ‘I can see that.’

Someone behind me sniggered and I quickly pushed my way out of the shop, my legs wobbling like a plate of jelly. David really had no hope that I would change my mind about moving back permanently when Chelsea Chalmers still lived in the vicinity. I had no desire to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for her.

I packed my shopping in the chilly boot of my car and walked down to the pub to treat myself to lunch, determined that Chelsea wasn’t going to run me out of the village.

‘What can I get you?’ asked the landlord.

After my unexpected encounter, I would have liked a double measure of something that would burn my throat and settle my nerves, but as I was driving, I thought better of it.

‘I’ll have a Coke please and a look at the lunch menu if you have one.’

‘One Coke coming up,’ he smiled, ‘and the menu is over there,’ he added, pointing to a board which was propped up next to a brightly burning fire.

‘Right,’ I said, reading the list. ‘Wow, it all sounds delicious. What do you recommend?’

‘If you’re a seafood fan, then I’d go for the mussels,’ he suggested. ‘They’re in season right now and they’re cooked fresh with just a hint of chilli.’

‘Perfect for this weather,’ I said, looking out the window as the wind rattled the frame.

‘Exactly,’ he grinned. ‘They’ll soon warm you up.’

‘I’ll have those then, please,’ I said. ‘And some bread too.’

‘Grab a seat and someone will bring it over.’

‘Thanks.’

I chose the table closest to the fire and noticed that I wasn’t going to be the first diner enjoying a steaming bowl of wine and chilli-enhanced mussels. They were clearly a popular choice, as was the pub. It was surprisingly busy for a blustery day in November.