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“That’s what I assumed. But he wanted to let us know in case we worry about not seeing them. I mean, he said he’d still be around. And Alfie too.”

“He’s the one with the pretty, gothic boyfriend? Who works at Winchester & Sons? Has very good taste in waistcoats.”

“Yes, I think so. I don’t really know them very well.”

“Alfie? Or the boyfriend?”

“Both,” I said. “The summer was so busy, and they were all getting settled in. There wasn’t much time for anything beyond pleasantries.”

Norman hummed and raised an eyebrow. We both knew I was lying, but it was whether he called me out on it.

The summer had been hectic, that much was true, but they’d all been around for weeks before they’d opened, and I’d barely done more than introduce myself. I’d been adamant that I would, at some point, but I’d never gotten around to it. And then things had gone downhill when Milo had taken my remarks about their outside seating crossing the line between our properties, and blocking my door, as some sort of declaration of war.

Maybe that was a bit of an overstatement.

But how else was I supposed to take him mapping out the boundaries with a chalk line? Especially considering he’d perfectly marked it with a tape measure. It was bloody irritating and had made me want to scream in frustration.

The fact I hadn’t reacted well was part of the reason things had escalated between us.

In my opinion, Milo was pushy, bad-mannered, tasteless, insolent, utterly infuriating… and somehow the most fascinating and charismatic man I’d ever met. He pushed all of my buttons, and yet, I spent half my time wondering what he was doing or dreaming up ways to get him to talk to me.

I kept telling myself I didn’t want his attention, and yet clearly, I did. Which was bloody annoying because I already knew that if I let myself get close to him it would end badly. It always did.

There was a reason I’d lived in Heather Bay for nearly ten years and still only had enough friends to count on one hand. And one of them was my employee. Another was a snake.

I wasn’t good at friendships, or any kind of relationship really, despite my best efforts. So, it was better not to try. At least then my fragile heart would be safe, and I wouldn’t hurt anyone with my temper.

“And now?” Norman asked pointedly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that, apart from Christmas, winter is always quieter and you could do with making some friends.”

“I’m fine, Norman. Seriously. I don’t need friends.”

“That’s a lie. Everyone needs friends.”

“I have you, and Sidney. And Lizzie!”

Norman’s stare was withering. “Elizabeth is a snake. A beautiful one, but still. And you can’t count me and Sidney, because we’ll be dead before long.”

“No, you won’t,” I said wryly. Norman and I had conversations about his death on a weekly basis. His gallows humour had never worried me. But it did mean I knew exactly what he wanted for his funeral, down to the specific versions of songs and the photos I was allowed to use. And I was very aware that if I strayed from any of it, Norman would come back to haunt me for the rest of my life.

“I might. I could die tomorrow.”

“If you do, I’ll let Sidney wear his yellow waistcoat to your funeral. And tell him you’ve always liked it but were too stubborn to admit it.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“You better not die then.”

“I definitely won’t now. Yellow waistcoat, indeed!” He shot me daggers as he straightened some jars on a nearby shelf. I tried not to laugh.

The bell above the door tinkled, and the pair of us looked up to see who it was. I was expecting it to be Ron, one of our regulars who always came in on a Thursday to get some sweets for the weekend. But it wasn’t.

It was Milo.

He’d removed his hat, giving me a much better look at his newly shaved head, and was still wearing the bright, patchwork fleece he’d had on earlier. Which I wanted to find ridiculous but just couldn’t. He made it look good.