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He knocked it back in one. ‘Don't be soft, I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Blimey, what's this, luv, horse piss? Got any beer?’

I laughed. ‘No, and you can blame me and your granddaughter for that. We didn't think we'd need it.’

‘Granddad, it's Pimm's. You'll love it!’ Stacey was indignant.

He made a face. ‘I might like it better without the fruit salad. Get us one without the gubbins in it, eh, luv?’ He handed her his glass and Stacey, raising her eyes to the heavens, went off to oblige.

‘What an occasion, though, luv.’ He rubbed his hands together excitedly. ‘The girls are thrilled to bits!’

I laughed. ‘I know. I think they regard it as their own private bookshop. They're always in here borrowing, and I haven't even opened.’

‘Ah, but you've encouraged that, haven't you?’ He jerked his head meaningfully outside and gave me a conspiratorial wink.

‘I have,’ I admitted. ‘Couldn't resist it.’

‘Course you couldn't, and who can blame you? But you must get them to work for it too. Get them behind the till of a Saturday. Teach them you don't get owt for nowt.’

‘Oh, don't worry, they've already booked their slots. And they want more than the minimum wage too.’

‘I bet they bloomin' do!’ boomed Terrific Ted, his face, I noticed, already the colour of the spotty red hanky he'd rather roguishly tucked in the top pocket of what looked like a new and dashing tweed jacket.

‘Aye, luv, you've done a grand job here. And look at all the support you've got.’ His eyes roved around, marvelling at what was now, indeed, quite a crush. ‘If all these people buy their books here, you're quids in. You've got a heap of customers already!’

‘Well, let's hope they do,’ I said nervously. ‘I'm rather counting on people's loyalty to their small, quirky, local bookshop, so handily located round the corner. Can't compete with the chains any other way.’

‘Aye, well, as that lovely lady over there was saying earlier, that's the charm o' the place.’ He nodded across the room. ‘Its quirkiness.’

‘That's my mum,’ I said in surprise. ‘Weren't you introduced?’

‘Not properly, like. I just muscled in the chatter, then someone else nabbed her. Your mum, eh?’ He looked in surprise: from me, back to her. ‘Oh, aye, I can see it now. Same smile. Same generous spirit too, I'll warrant.’

‘Oh, no, Ted, she's much nicer than me. Come and meet her properly.’

I led him across the room and introduced them. Yes, Mum did indeed look rather lovely, I thought, as I left them chatting. The girls had persuaded her to cut off her ponytail and have her hair done properly, with a few highlights, which had been a huge improvement; made her look years younger. In fact, everyone looked lovely this evening, I decided. Anna and Stacey were with their cousins behind the bar – or trestle table – where they clearly thought their duty lay, laughing at Henry, who was throwing Hula Hoops up in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth, missing every time: the boys looking gangly and adorable, smart shirts hanging out over pale chinos, the girls, very grown up in short skirts, huge belts and make-up; Phoebe too. She saw me looking and smiled across. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she peeled off from the others; came over and plucked at my sleeve.

‘Um, Evie?’

‘Yes, darling?’ I glanced around distractedly. Should I serve the sausages now, I wondered. Surely everyone was pretty much here?

‘You know you said to Mum that one day Jack or Henry could buy the farm back from you?’

I turned to look at her properly.

‘Yes?’

‘Would you say the same to me?’ Her colour rose up her neck. ‘If one day I wanted to, would you give me first refusal too?’

I put my jug down. ‘Phoebe Milligan.’ I put my arms round her and hugged her tight. ‘With the greatest pleasure.’ I whispered in her ear. ‘The very greatest pleasure. Don't you worry, Phoebe, that place has got your name on it, should you ever want it.’

‘Thank you.’ She beamed at me. ‘It's just, I thought I might go to Cirencester after school. You know, agricultural college. Learn how to do it properly.