Chapter 1

The summer sun shone down on the village of Little Dossett. There wasn't a cloud in sight and the warm breeze carried the subtle aroma of wild flowers through the air. A small blue and white van spluttered as it pulled up in front of a row of stone-built cottages. The driver climbed out and removed a toolbox from the passenger seat. He glanced at his clipboard. He then looked towards the rose covered arch of the house in front of him. 'So, this must be Rose Cottage; the last house on my list for today.' He opened the gate and knocked on the front door.

       'You there? What's your name?'

The man turned and noticed a bony faced woman staring at him. 'It's Mr Mills-'

       'Are you here to fix my boiler?'

       Mr Mills frowned as he watched the woman in the adjoining house lock her front door. She then pushed her bicycle down her path and stopped in front of him. 'You are from the gas board, aren't you?'

       'Yes.'

       'So, are you here to fix my boiler? I've got no hot water!'

       Mr Mills glanced at his clipboard again. 'Are you Mrs Mincer of Rose Cottage?'

      'No. I'm Amelia Moore of Thistle Cottage.'

       'I'm sorry, but I'm here to see the Mincers.'

       'In that case, you can call on me when you've finished.'

       'But-'

       Amelia held up her hand and silenced him. 'I'm off to church now. I need to confirm the arrangements with the vicar for the fete. He's new to the village, and it's his first one!'

      'But Mrs Moore, you need to ring the office and make an appointment.'

       'It's Miss Moore and don't argue. It won't take you a moment.' Amelia climbed onto her bicycle. 'Anyway, it'll save you the trouble of coming back another day.'

      'It's against company procedure-'

       'Nonsense and dribble. I'll not hear another word about it. I'll be back shortly. Oh, and when you come in, make sure you wipe your feet. I don't want you tramping mud all over my Axminster!'

       Mr Mills scratched his head. 'Axminster?'

       'My carpet; you silly man!' said Amelia and pedalled off with her nose in the air. Mr Mills went to call after her, but Amelia signalled left and disappeared around the corner.

       'Can I help you?'

        Mr Mills turned to see a grey, haired elderly woman standing in the doorway. He looked at his clipboard. 'Mrs Mincer?'

       'Hello. Yes, I'm Beryl Mincer.'

       'Excellent. I'm Mr Mills from the gas board. I'm here about your supply.'

        Beryl wiped her floury hands down her apron and peered over the top of her glasses. 'What's the matter with it?'

        'We're not sure, but your bill appears to be alarmingly high. That's why I'm here, to check there's nothing untoward.'

        Beryl glanced up and down the road. 'Untoward, you say? You had better come in.'