Trisha Ashley 3 Book Bundle. Trisha Ashley

Grumps today,’ I said, scraping plates and then dumping them into the washing-up bowl. ‘Then afterwards he called to see me, too.’

      ‘What for?’ he asked, looking up from my newest copy of Skint Old Northern Woman magazine, which seemed a strange choice of reading matter for a teenage boy – except, of course, that he is a fairly strange teenage boy.

      ‘To catch up on old times.’ I took a deep breath and confessed, ‘You see, we went out with each other years ago. You were only a baby at the time, so you won’t remember, but I went away to university and that’s where I met him. But then he went off with Mortal Ruin and became a rock god and I…came home.’

      ‘You went out with Raffy Sinclair?’ he exclaimed, with the same unflattering amazement that Felix had shown at the news.

      ‘Only for a few weeks, and I haven’t seen him since.’

      ‘Oh my God – you mean I might have had Raffy Sinclair for my brother-in-law if you hadn’t messed up?’ he demanded aggrievedly.

      ‘I didn’t mess up, we just…drifted apart,’ I lied. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him all the truth, especially that he was the reason I hadn’t gone back to university and been there when Raffy returned to look for me. ‘And you never wanted a brother-in-law anyway – look how horrible you were to poor David!’

      ‘I wouldn’t have wanted one like him. He hated me.’

      ‘No, he didn’t, he just got tired of all the awful tricks you played on him, and no wonder! He was asking about you today – which university you hoped to go to, and that kind of thing.’

      ‘He was probably hoping it wasn’t one near home,’ he said acutely. ‘Then he wouldn’t have to have me around much if you got back together.’

      ‘We’re not getting back together,’ I said firmly, though strangely enough I was starting to think I might have been reinstated on David’s current list of suitable brides, despite not meeting any of the criteria: I preferred living alone, I’d lost any desire for motherhood after bringing up Jake, and my idea of a good time was curling up on the sofa at home with a box of truffles, wine, and my favourite Georgette Heyer novel. Sophisticated I was not. That Mel he kept mentioning sounded a much more suitable candidate.

      ‘I’m not what he’s looking for. In fact, I’m not what anyone is looking for,’ I assured Jake.

      But he was now staring at me critically, as though he’d never seen me before in his life, even ignoring the cheese board and the bowl of grapes I’d put in front of him to fill up any empty crevices. ‘I suppose you were quite pretty when you were young.’

      ‘I’m way too old to remember,’ I snapped, and he grinned and started on the crumbly Lancashire. He had an amazing capacity for putting away food; he’d already eaten most of my dinner since, unsurprisingly, I wasn’t that hungry.

      Kat was coming round to watch him practise in the garden with his firesticks while I was out at the Falling Star, so before I left I warned him not to set anything alight, including himself.

      I’d been tempted to ring Poppy and say I had a sudden rush of Wishes orders and couldn’t go out tonight, but I knew if I did she and Felix would only come to the cottage instead.

      Unfortunately, I’m not terribly good at fibbing. And anyway, by now I’d gone through the angry, tearful and distraught stages and was feeling fairly numb, with just a piquant hint of bitterness.

      Maybe I could invent a new chocolate line: BitterSweets for dumped lovers?

      Poppy and Felix were just turning into the entrance to the Falling Star together as I came into the High Street, so I ran across to join them. Mrs Snowball switched the coffee machine on and started bustling about with the cups and saucers the second we opened the snug door so I, for one, hadn’t the heart to tell her that after the day I’d had I really felt more in need of a double brandy than a cappuccino.

      ‘I saw that young man you brought in here, dropping you off earlier in his posh little sports car,’ she said to me conversationally. ‘He hasn’t been back since. Didn’t he like my coffee?’

      I suppose a man in his early forties did seem young to Mrs Snowball. Oddly enough, although I hadn’t really noticed the age difference between David and me six years ago, I was now much more conscious of it. All David’s tastes, ideas and attitudes seemed to be terribly stuffy and set in stone, and he just assumed I would automatically agree with them as if there weren’t other, and usually better, options.

      ‘David loved your coffee and I’m sure he’ll want to come again. But we’d been house-hunting and he had to get back home.’

      ‘Oh yes, I’d forgotten you were doing that today,’ Poppy said.

      ‘I hadn’t.’ Felix gave me a pained look, as if I’d done something not quite nice.

      Florrie Snowball turned from fiddling with the steaming, hissing chrome monster and looked at me. ‘So, you’re moving in together already? I know you used to be engaged, because that Zillah told me. And who can blame you if you’ve taken up with him again – a handsome feller like that?’

      ‘No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that he wants to move into the country and I enjoy looking at other people’s houses, that’s all.’

      ‘Well, who knows, his heart might soften towards you again,’ she said, so clearly she had a romantic heart concealed behind her Maidenform corset. ‘You bring him back in soon and I’ll make him some extra special coffee,’ she promised, with a gappy grin.

      ‘It looks like David has made a conquest,’ Poppy said when we were sitting out of earshot in the window. Felix was paying for this first round, which involved a lot of checking of various pockets and counting out of coins.

      ‘Funny, I didn’t get the feeling at the time that she liked him that much.’

      ‘She certainly likes Felix – look at her going all flirty at him again,’ Poppy said.

      ‘But even he doesn’t get extra sprinkle on his cappuccino,’ I observed as Felix sat down with his cup. ‘David did, though actually you’re not missing anything, Felix, because it was funny, speckled greenish stuff, not grated chocolate or cinnamon.’

      ‘I wonder what it was, then?’ Poppy said. ‘What would have green speckles in it?’

      ‘Perhaps she mistakenly used rancid powdered milk substitute, or something like that?’ I suggested. ‘It didn’t look very nice and he poured most of it into that plant behind you. He dashed off home, too, and rang me later to say he didn’t feel well.’ And now I came to look at it, the aspidistra was looking pretty ropey.

      ‘I wanted a pint of best bitter, not a coffee,’ Felix complained, ‘only I couldn’t hurt her feelings. I mean, I’ve got my own coffee maker in the shop now – I can drink it all day if I want to, for free. She seems to be in love with that machine.’

      ‘The novelty will probably wear off soon, now that Molly and Clive can both work it,’ Poppy said. ‘Look, she’s going, so we can have something else in a minute.’

      But Mrs Snowball paused in the doorway to deliver a parting shot. ‘I hear the new vicar nearly bought it this afternoon: squashed flat by an angel!’

      She could be heard cackling like the wicked witch in a pantomime even after the door had shut behind her.

      I turned to the other two and demanded, ‘What on earth does she mean? Has Raffy had an accident?’

      ‘It’s OK, he’s fine. It missed him by a mile,’ Felix said. ‘Effie Yatton came into the shop later and told me about it.’

      ‘Yes, and she rang me at home, too. She always knows everything first – she’s the village voice!’

      ‘But I don’t know anything,’ I said impatiently.