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“You’re finally here,” Rosalee caroled when they walked in. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Train was delayed,” Lucy said. “And I’m dying for a pee, I’ll be right back.” She rushed off, leaving Cal and Rosalee alone.

“Has she told you?” Rosalee asked. “She said she would, she said I should let her do it, it’d come better from her, but I can see from the look on your face that you’re not… over-eager.”

Cal sighed. “It’s not that this isn’t a lovely place, Ros. It is. And you and I get along like a house on fire now. It’s not that.”

“It’s everything and everyone else,” Rosalee said, nodding. “I understand.” She hesitated. “You know Doris Renton retired.We’ve got a new cleaner in now, if that’s who you were worried about.”

Cal laughed. Old Doris had never quite forgiven her, being under the impression that if Cal was suspected of one thing it made her suspicious in general. The phrase ‘you can’t teach old dogs new tricks’ came to mind whenever she thought about Doris. “Can’t win them all,” she said.

Rosalee put a hand on her arm. “Listen, how about this? Why don’t you work here tomorrow night? Just come down, do a couple of hours, get a feel for the place and the people. If you don’t like it after that, well, we’ll say no more about it.”

Lucy was winding her way back from the bathrooms and Cal bit her lip before giving a sharp nod. “Alright then, I suppose you can’t say fairer than that. I mean, we’re staying here anyway, so it won’t be out of my way.”

“What won’t be out of your way?” Lucy asked, sliding her arm through Cal’s in a way that still made Cal’s heart beat funny. Cal explained and Lucy squeezed her arm. “I think that’s an excellent plan.”

Cal just shrugged. She had nothing to lose, she supposed.

???

Ash folded her arms. “I’m not being grumpy.”

“To be fair, you are a bit,” Lucy said.

“It’s eleven o’clock on a Sunday morning,” Ash said. “What can possibly be so important that I need to be anywhere other than in my bed reading the newspaper?”

“You adore George,” Pen said, looping her arm through her wife’s. “And if he asked you to bungee jump off the Eiffel Tower, you’d do it.”

“I absolutely would not,” Ash protested.

But Lucy was laughing and even Ash’s lips tweaked a little at the corners.

“What do they want anyway?” Cal asked, taking a croissantfrom the plate in the middle of the table.

“Not a clue,” Pen said, looking worried. “I mean, usually George can’t hold a secret for more than a minute. But this time even I couldn’t get him to talk. And he’s been looking pale and tired for weeks now. Something’s been worrying him.”

“Maybe he’s ill,” Lucy said. “Or maybe Billy is.”

Pen groaned and Ash patted her hand. “I’m sure they’re both fine,” Ash said.

Which was when the bakery door opened and George came in. Lucy looked him up and down, he was pale and he didn’t look well-rested in the slightest. But he was smiling. Smiling so much that it looked like his face might crack in half.

“Are you ill?” Ash asked, never one to beat around the bush.

“What?” George said, looking surprised. “No? Why? Do I look ill?”

“Yes,” Pen and Lucy said together.

“Great, thanks,” said George. “Um, no I’m not. Nor is Billy, in case you were wondering.”

“Where is Billy?” Cal asked.

George grinned even wider. “Ah, yes. Now if you’ll just give me a moment.” He bent down to fiddle with the bakery front door. The door itself was technically a double door, but no one ever used more than the one side that was typically unlocked. Now George was grating the old locks on the other side.

“What on earth are you doing?” Pen asked.

“We asked you all here to meet someone,” George said, still yanking at the lock. “Or someones, I suppose.”