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‘I don’t really have a choice.’

‘I guess not. Blink and it’ll be Christmas. I take it you’ll all be at home then?’ Kelly enquired.

‘Yes. It’ll be lovely with the twins being that much older this year. Oh, I didn’t tell you. There’s a Christmas market coming to the harbour, and actually, I need to ask you something. Do you remember anyone called Max Rogers from our past at all?’

‘Hmm… name doesn’t ring a bell.’

‘It’s just you know when you recognise someone and can’t think for the life from where. He definitely has a twinkle in his blue eyes, I know that much.’

‘Rita Jory, behave yourself.’

‘I’m not going to lie, he is hot. But you know me, a one-man woman. I never usually go for bald men either. Jago has a fine head of hair, same as my Archie.’

Kelly sniffed. ‘My Ron’s on about having a transplant. I told him if you’re going to have one of those, look down south and have a bit more put on there instead. Keep us both happy.’ She paused. ‘He wasn’t amused.’

Rita laughed loudly. ‘I don’t suppose he was. Anyway, you’ve been no use to me re Max Rogers.’

‘Have you stalked him on his socials? That might give you a clue.’

‘Yeah. Nothing.’

‘Well, he’s either completely dodgy or really sensible keeping away from the poison of social media, if that’s the case.’

Rita moved her laptop to the coffee table and sat down.

‘You could always just ask him,’ Kelly added.

‘Maybe I will. And thanks for that, Miss Marple.’

‘Talking of Christmas,’ Kelly went on, ‘I quite fancy coming down for that market. I’ve not had a proper wander round one in years.’

‘It’s only going to be small, Kel, five, six stalls at most.’

‘I don’t care, any excuse for a mini break. I’ll have to plan it right though, as it’s a busy time of year in the salon. I’m yet to squeeze those babies in the flesh, so it has to be done.’

‘I know! It’s criminal.’ Rita stretched out her arms to relieve the tension in her back from constantly lifting and carrying the twins. ‘The retreat’s the second week of December, and the fair’s running for most of December, so just let me know when you want to come; you’re always welcome, you know that.’

‘Will do.’

‘Pete the Pilchard will be beside himself.’

Kelly slipped into a strong Cornish accent. ‘He wishes to be, dirty old sod, my favourite type!’ She mimicked the extrovert landlord, ‘“Alright, Kelly, my luvver.”’

Rita burst out laughing. From the kitchen, the familiar sound of squeals and unrecognisable chatter filtered through.

‘Sounds like my little monsters are back.’ Rita smiled. ‘And Chloe will be heading off soon, so I’d better get out there.’

‘Go on then, Mum duty calls, and I’ll let you know if I decide on a trip down.’

‘Just come. I could do with a Kelly night out.’

‘The kind that ends in regret and a kebab, you mean.’ Kelly guffawed.

‘Only regret the things you don’t do. Remember!’ Rita quoted.

‘Exactly that, my dear friend. Exactly that.’

TWENTY-SIX