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“Seriously?” they said together.

“We have a few things to catch you up on,” Frances said. “And it’s not that we are opening a restaurant.”

“We’re moving back here,” Lucie added, unable to contain their news any longer.

“When?” her dad blurted out, giving away his clear excitement.

“Now. We’re back.”

“But what about your course?” Mandy asked.

“I have to go back to London in the new year, just for a couple more months. I’ll come home every weekend,” Lucie said, looking at Frances.

They had discussed it at length, and Frances had assured her that a few months apart during the week only would be manageable.

“And how does the village hall fit into this?” her dad asked, forehead furrowed deeply.

“Mum left some money,” Frances said. “We want to put it to good use.”

“Restoring the village hall?”

“Yes,” Lucie said.” It’s going to become The Rose Lily Drama Therapy Centre.”

“Oh, Lucie...” her dad said, his face softening.

She smiled at him. “By the time it’s restored, I’ll be a qualified drama therapist.” She gave a small shrug. “It’s time to start helping people closer to home.”

He wiped his eyes with a handkerchief and sniffed. “They’d be proud of what you’re doing. Both of you.”

Mandy put her arm around him. “Will the villagers be able to use it?”

“Yes. We need to recoup the cost of the restoration, so hiring out the rooms when they aren’t in use is part of the business plan. We’re hoping the amateur dramatic society might reform.”

“We’re aiming to bring back the open theatre up at the hall during the summer as well,” Frances added.

“Well, we all need a bit of theatre in our lives.” Mandy chuckled. “Good on you.”

Her dad leaned back. “Sounds like you have a lot of plans. Don’t spread yourself too thin, love.”

“We’ll manage,” Lucie said, reaching for Frances’s hand. “Together.”

“How are the renovations going up at the hall?” Mandy asked.

“Well, that’s something else we need to talk to you about,” Lucie answered. “We can’t stay there. It’s too noisy, and with the scaffolding up, builders are constantly walking past our windows.”

“Do you want Croft Cottage?”

“If that’s okay?” Lucie replied, grateful he was already a step ahead.

He nodded firmly. “It’s yours for as long as you want it. It will belong to you one day anyway. You might as well make it your own now.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Yes. Thank you indeed,” Frances added. “Will you join us there for Christmas lunch? It’s about time we hosted you.”

“Thanks, but we’ll be working,” her dad said, eyes shining. “We’ve already sold out two sittings over lunchtime.”

Mandy nudged him lightly, grinning. He smiled back at her, a glint in his eye.