‘Let’s try that again,’ said Belinda, patiently.

Bex took a deep breath and stared at the touch screen of the till. ‘I enter my ID number... then I press wine, then I press Merlot, then I press large, then I press return, then I press beer, then I press pint—’

‘No! Then you press Guinness.’

Bex sighed. ‘Maybe you’d be better off with someone else.’

‘Honestly, you’ll be fine. It takes everyone a little while to learn how to operate the till.’

‘But we haven’t even started on spirits and mixers and I dread to think what I’ll be like when we get onto food.’

‘And I won’t leave you on your own behind the bar until you get the hang of it.’

‘Then you’ll be holding my hand till I draw my pension.’

Belinda heard the pub clock chime. ‘Never mind that now. Opening time.’

Bex felt her heart-rate increase. Stage fright, she thought. Supposing she got everything wrong? Supposing she really pissed off Belinda’s customers? As if her employer guessed her feelings, Belinda put her hand on Bex’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze before she went to the front door and unbolted it. And... nothing. If Bex had expected people to be waiting, gasping for refreshment on the doorstep, she was disappointed. She looked questioningly at her boss.

‘Give it a few minutes,’ said Belinda. ‘The regulars don’t like to look too keen – smacks of being the town drunks.’

Bex carried on with trying to ring up practice rounds of drinks for another five minutes or so before the first customer opened the door.

‘Afternoon, Harry,’ said Belinda.

‘Morning, Belinda.’

‘It’s gone midday,’ corrected Belinda.

‘I ain’t had my lunch yet, so that makes it morning. And a pint of the usual, please.’

‘And Harry, meet Bex. She’s going to be working here.’

‘Morning, Bex. A pint of London Pride, please.’

Bex reached for a pint glass and carefully pulled the pump forward a couple of times till the amber liquid reached the mark on the glass. She passed the drink to Harry, carefully avoiding the beer pumps, then she painstaking entered Harry’s drink into the computerised till.

‘Three pounds sixty, please, Harry,’ she said.

Harry handed over a fiver and Bex took a deep breath before she began tapping on the screen of the till. ‘Forty-six pounds and forty pence change?!’ she squawked.

‘At least you recognised it as the wrong amount,’ said Belinda. ‘I’ve had bar staff who’ve cheerfully handed over that sort of money. You got the decimal point in the wrong place. Cancel the transaction and try again.’

Bex pressed the cancel button. ‘One pound forty – that’s better.’ The till drawer pinged open, Bex put in the fiver and took out the change.

‘There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?’ said Belinda.

Bex knew she was supposed to agree cheerfully that it had been a doddle but actually she felt more like reaching for the gin bottle that was on the shelf right beside her. Instead she handed Harry his money.

‘Want to know what I just saw?’ said Harry.

‘What’s that?’

‘Leanne Knowles going into old Doc Connolly’s place. Seems they got burgled last night.’

‘No!’ said Belinda. ‘Not another break-in. I’ve heard there have been a few round and about.’

‘’Tis terrible. A proper crime-wave,’ agreed Harry.

‘And I thought this town was as safe as houses after London,’ said Bex.

Belinda shook her head. ‘Sadly, I don’t think anywhere is truly safe any more. Just make sure you keep everything nice and secure, is all I can say. Especially given that you live in the big house.’

Bex stared at Belinda, horrified. It was a very unsettling thought that she might be a target because of where she lived. She’d have to start double locking the doors at night.

By the time the pub had a dozen regulars enjoying a lunchtime drink, Bex was starting to get the hang of the till, and where all the various drinks, mixers and snacks were kept. She was still painfully slow but the customers were a patient, pleasant lot and cut her the slack she needed. Belinda cleared the tables and dealt with the food and, when things were quiet, she got on with a stock-check ready for an order she wanted to place with their suppliers later that day.

‘There, you see,’ said Belinda. ‘I couldn’t be doing that if I were running this place single-handed. You’ve already saved me a big job I’d have had to have done this afternoon after we’ve closed.’

That comment chuffed Bex quite a lot as, until then, she’d felt she’d been more of a hindrance than a help.

In the occasional lulls between customers Bex listened to the conversations going on. With no music it was easy to eavesdrop – not that she had done so deliberately to start with, but it was difficult not to take an interest in what was being said.

She leaned on the bar and focused her hearing on a group of four men in the corner.

‘It’s them druggie layabouts from Cattebury doing all the thieving,’ said one.

‘How do you know that, George?’ said the one Bex remembered as being Harry.

‘Stands to reason, don’t it. There ain’t no drugs here in Little Woodford.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I heard that Mrs Laithwaite told the town clerk there was a whole bunch of druggie goings-on up at the nature reserve.’

‘Get away.’

‘’Tis true.’

There was a pause while the foursome assimilated the information.

Bex felt sad. She’d hoped that this outwardly perfect little market town was just that – perfect. But apparently not. It seemed like everywhere, the surface veneer of flawlessness was an illusion. Chip it away and it was like everywhere else. All she had to hope was that it wasn’t quite as bad as some bits of the rest of the country – like London, for example.

*

Amy was feeling a bit tired after spending the morning cleaning for Olivia, and wasn’t looking forward to her afternoon stint at Jacqui Connolly’s, but she perked up no end when, as she turned into the Connolly’s drive, she saw a police car there.

‘What the...?’ she said out loud. Whatever it was, the presence of a cop car never meant good news. Gawd, she hoped they hadn’t had another tragedy because that might send Jacqui completely over the top. Not, thought Amy, that Jacqui could put away much more than she already did to judge by what she saw when she emptied the bins – and looked in the cupboards to see where Jacqui hid it. She was quite inventive; behind the cleaning products in the kitchen, in the loo cistern, in her knitting bag... And she hid her drinking pretty well too. Amy reckoned that if she had to do anything – go out, go to the book club or the WI – she had to be very careful about how much she had to drink during the day because no one else had ever mentioned to her that Jacqui liked the sauce. But Amy was sure that on the days when she stayed at home, she knocked back the vodka like there was no tomorrow. There’d been a couple of occasions when Amy’d come round to clean and she’d been poorly. Huh, hungover more like. The first couple of times it had happened Amy hadn’t twigged but then she’d started to notice the number of bottles in the recycling and so it was only human nature to dig a bit deeper... Anyone would, wouldn’t they? And then there was the business that she and her husband, David, had separate bedrooms. That always meant a marriage was in trouble, didn’t it? Amy reckoned he couldn’t approve of the amount she drank; not with him being a doctor and everything.

Amy got to the front door and rang the bell. Normally she’d have opened the door with her key and bowled in but, today, some instinct told her that it might be better if she didn’t. It was opened after a few seconds by the local police community support officer, Leanne Knowles.

‘It’s Amy, isn’t it?’ said Leanne.

Amy nodded. ‘Hi, Leanne.’ Everyone in the town knew Leanne’s name. She’d been helping police the town for over a decade and was often on patrol on the streets. ‘I’ve come to clean for Mrs Connolly.’

‘Not sure it’s convenient right now.’

Amy wasn’t going to be done out of her earnings if she could help it. Besides, she was gagging to know what was going on. ‘I can keep out of your way – do the upstairs if you’re downstairs.’

‘Who is it?’ called Jacqui’s voice from somewhere inside.

Leanne called back over her shoulder, ‘It’s Amy.’

‘Let her in.’

Amy gave Leanne a triumphant look as she shouldered past.

‘Hey, Jacqui,’ she said as she got into the sitting room. ‘What’s with the cops?’

‘We got burgled last night.’

‘No!’ Amy was genuinely shocked. She’d heard there’d been some burglaries in the town but she wasn’t expecting anyone she knew to get done over.

Jacqui nodded sadly.

‘Did they take much?’

‘Some cash, my laptop, David’s camera, some other bits and pieces. Some jewellery,’ she added.

‘Not too bad then.’

Jacqui rounded on Amy. ‘What do you mean, “not too bad”? We had strangers in our house, while we were asleep. We might have been murdered in our beds, they might have ransacked Lisa’s room...’ A tear trickled down her face.

‘But that’s what I meant,’ said Amy. ‘That other stuff might have happened and the things that’s been nicked... well, it’s just things. You can replace them. Anyway, the insurance will cover the cost.’

‘I suppose,’ said Jacqui. She didn’t sound convinced. ‘But I still feel scared and violated and... Oh, it’s just horrible to think that some scumbag was creeping around my house at the dead of night.’ She shuddered. ‘I feel like I want to have the whole place deep cleaned.’

‘Good job I’m here then, ain’t it,’ said Amy, cheerfully. ‘Where do you want me to start?’

‘Nowhere,’ said Leanne. ‘Not till the fingerprint people have been round.’

Amy rolled her eyes. ‘Aw, come on, Leanne, I’ve got a living to make.’

‘And I’ve got a string of crimes on my patch.’

The two women glared at each other.

‘Amy,’ said Jacqui, ‘if you want to come another time, I’ll happily pay you for those hours. I will seriously want some help when the police have finished.’

Amy sniffed. ‘I suppose. Not sure when I can manage it but I’ll do what I can. Rushed off my feet, I am, so I’ll have to squeeze you in. Maybe after I’ve finished some of my other jobs.’

‘Thank you, Amy. Thank you. Just let me know.’

‘I’m sure you can see yourself out,’ said Leanne.

Gawd, thought Amy as she headed for the front door. Give a woman a uniform and she turns into a mini dictator. Then she cheered herself up with the thought that she had time off and a really juicy story to tell her mum.