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‘See what I mean.’ Jago took her hand and squeezed it.

‘There you are!’ Jilly appeared suddenly beside them, cheeks flushed from the cold and cider and general chaos of the evening. ‘I’ve been looking for you two. This is turning into quite a night, isn’t it?’

‘That’s one word for it,’ Jago muttered.

Jilly grinned, looping an arm through Rita’s. ‘Come on then, you’re needed over by the stalls.’ She whispered into her friend’s ear, ‘Those Cider Boys can squeeze my apples any day.’

Rita laughed, letting herself be tugged along and looking back with a mouthed ‘sorry’ to Jago.

They had only moved a few steps when Jilly slowed. Rita followed her gaze.

Joel was outside the pub, collecting glasses. Beside him stood someone Rita didn’t recognise – the influencer her kids had mentioned, she guessed – already deep in what looked like easy, practised flirtation.

Jilly paused, took a slow breath that didn’t look particularly steady, then on seeing Max at the sausage stand marched straight over. And kissed him. A full-on proper smacker! Max went rigid for half a second, eyes wide. ‘Woah there, landlady… is this in the house rules?’

‘Just go with it,’ Jilly urged, then kissed him again just long enough for Joel to definitely see.

Rita, watching from a few feet away, shook her head. Jago joined her. ‘You can take the girl out of Liverpool…’

Rita was wide eyed at his comment. ‘My dad always said that love and loss at any age feels the same.’

‘Not sure he would have condoned acting like a teenager in Jilly’s case, mind you,’ Jago replied sensibly.

Max finally peeled himself away, still blinking. ‘Right… err… I’m going to mingle. I have people to talk to.’ He wandered off towards his stallholders.

As he passed Rita and Jago again, he slowed and glanced up as snowflakes began to fall, catching in the glow of the lamps. ‘Let’s hope Stan, your man, is right about the sprinkling.’

He drifted off.

Jago watched him go, brow creasing. ‘He’s so strange, that bloke.’

Rita nudged him lightly with her shoulder and weirdly found herself sticking up for Max. ‘He’s just finding his feet. We all do that in our own odd way.’

Jago grunted. ‘The council meeting didn’t throw up any surprising planning applications, at least. But he was there.’

Rita’s jaw dropped. ‘Is that why you went? On the strength of one of Betty Bloom’s outlandish rumours that I happened to share with you?’

Jago gave a small, unapologetic shrug. ‘Well… you know what they say. No smoke without fire.’

‘That is not an actual guiding principle, Jago.’ Rita then smiled. ‘Give him a chance.’

The snow began to settle over the harbour.

‘Oh God.’ Rita tilted her face to the sky. ‘The retreat guests are great, but I wouldn’t want to get snowed in with them.’

‘It’s fine,’ Jago soothed. ‘Stan said it’ll be a light dusting. And after all, Stan knows everything.’

A flake landed on Rita’s nose. ‘Aw, that’s what you wrote in one of your Singing Tree notes when you were trying to woo me.’

Jago leant in and kissed it away without thinking. ‘I love you, Rita Jory.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘What’s brought this on?’

‘I don’t need a reason, you silly mare.’

She laughed, shaking her head as they stood together in the cold, the sound of carols rising behind them.

Rita spotted Oksana and Gabriel nearby, his hand resting carefully over her good one. Tessa was deep in conversation with Evan, both of them smiling like they’d wandered into their own quieter world.