Page 118 of The Secret House of Honey and Hope

“But it’s close enough. And according to George, if there is any part of it, a shed, even a chicken coop, that falls within Labri Catch’s side…”

“We’ve been down there a few times. I didn’t see anything like that. Remember it’s all bushes.”

“Well, we’re going to have another look.”

“No customers?” A snide voice makes me look up. Tim Morris has come into the shop, Sweeny behind him. “You may as well close early.”

I snap the folder shut. “What do you want?”

“We thought we might save you a lot of useless trouble. You can delay things for a couple of weeks, but you can’t stop the sale. We checked it with a bunch of lawyers. So, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

While Morris is talking, I hurry to close and lock the door that connects the shop to the rest of the house. No way am I letting them go inside. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice, Pierre going to stand behind the counter where the cash box is.

“Can you please leave.” I’m glad my voice sounds steady.

They don’t answer right away, they just walk around the shop and every so often they point to something and nod as if at a private joke.

“You have been issued with an order not to trespass on my property.”

“Don’t you meanourproperty?” Sweeny stresses the word. He’s still walking around picking up jars and boxes and laying his hands on everything.

“Not until the Stay of Process expires,” I say.

He pays me no attention.

“For now, it’s still my property.”

They both ignore me.

“And can you stop handling my stock please.”

They both give me wide eyes then laugh as if I’ve said something hilarious “It’s a shop. People are supposed to come in and handle the merchandise.”

Pierre steps forward, she has her phone in her hand. “Any shop owner has the right to refuse to serve you. The owner asked you to leave, you need to leave.”

“Or what?” Morris comes to stand in front of her, towering over her.

“She might call the police.” Sweeny sniggers. “Oh, wait, there’s no police here. Why don’t you call your paparazzi boyfriend, maybe he can take a few snaps?”

I’ve already thought about calling for help, but who? It would take ten minutes at least for anyone to cycle from the village. The only real help is Hal next door, and I don’t think I can call him.

“Calm down sweetheart.” Sweeny drawls form the other side of the room as he unscrews a jar. “We just wanted to make you an offer.” He dips his finger in to taste. Thistle honey, a small corner of my mind notes. “If you give up this, frankly useless, delay—”

“Get out!” I repeat, my voice skirls up, shaking with anger.

“I’ve already called Myles.” Pierre mouths the words to me, silently.

It’s only then I realise Pierre must have messaged him as soon as she went behind the counter.

Sweeny plonks the open honey jar on the nearest table and stalks towards me. “Clearly, you’ve chosen to do this the hard way. We were going to be nice and give you a month to pack and move. Now, you’ll have to clear off on the day the sale goes through. Which is…” He makes an exaggerated show of consulting his phone.

“Ten days,” Morris tells him.

“Yeah, that’s Sunday. We’re going to be here at six in the morning with our builders, you’d better be out by then.”

“Hello!” Myles calls from just outside the door as he climbs off his bike. He’s breathing fast and clearly has hurried over as soon as Pierre texted him.

His presence is like a wave of relief that washes through me, I can feel the knots in my back muscles release.