Mari sat in her chair and glared at Gryff. “I’m not an invalid, you know,” she snapped.

Gryff hovered over her, holding a knitted lap blanket. “A shock can be bad,” he said. “It could be a…” he searched for inspiration. “It could be traumatic and you need a blanket.”

“I don’t need a blanket,” Mari said. She tried to stand up and a wave of dizziness ran through her.

Gryff watched anxiously as Mari slumped back down. “I checked online. I need to keep you warm and get you plenty of warm drinks,” He tentatively laid the blanket across Mari’s lap. “And I’ve got a nice cup of tea here.” He fluttered a hand at the mug on the table next to her. “And hang on…” He dashed out and raced back with a small plate balanced high with biscuits. “And something sweet. That’s what the website said.”

Mari scowled. “Those are the burnt butter biscuits that are meant for chapel,” she said. “I usually go along to the knitting circle.”

“I really think that you need to have something,” Gryff said. “I can make you a sandwich.” He twisted his hands nervously. “I’m not very good.”

“I’m really going to have to teach you boys how to cook,” Mari said. “Even if it’s just the basics. But there’s some tins of soup in the cupboard under the microwave. Heat one of those up in a bowl.” She patted his hand. “I’ll feel better with something warm inside of me.” She found herself smiling as Gryff dashed towards the kitchen.

Now she was alone, she still felt shaken, and there was an insistent tug inside of her, like she was missing something. She shivered and forced her mind towards other things. Gryff was so sweet. Perhaps she could show her thanks with more than some biscuits. Poor kids seemed to be neglected and the clothes that she found in the washing pile were thin and threadbare. Sion would have told her to walk away, and that they were going to take advantage of her. Mari was unconvinced. Besides, it was good to have someone to cook for and it wouldn’t hurt to have someone to knit for. She had got all that sock yarn on sale a few months after Christmas and there was plenty to make sure that the lads had some good, hand-knitted socks under those work boots. Not that it would take much yarn. Those poor boys were far too small and skinny. It would do her good to feed them up.

Besides, she hadn’t been joking when she had suggested that they help with all the little jobs that Sion had been putting off. She’d had a go at fixing the handle on the kitchen drawer by the sink. She’d watched an online guide and she didn’t think that she had done a bad job, but she couldn’t help but feel that the lads knew a lot more about a tool kit than she did. There was a knock at the front door.

Mari forced herself to her feet and walked to the front door. Her heart fell as she saw her neighbour. Nellie was always a pain in the neck and couldn’t miss a chance to gossip. They had been rivals in school, nearly fifty years ago, and had never seen eye to eye. She was the last person Mari wanted to see. “Hello, Nellie.”

Nellie peered over her shoulder. “I saw you being helped into your house by a young man,” she said. “And I thought with your Stella going abroad with her kids and that husband of hers, then straight after your husband dying in those unfortunate circumstances, well, it’s no wonder that you have a funny turn.”

Mari plastered on a fake smile. “Stella’s doing fine,” she said. “My daughter would have been mad to miss up a chance for a job like hers.” She carefully ignored any mention of her husband. “But you’re right, I have had a bit of a shock. I think there was an electrical fault. Two of the young lads are sorting it out now, while Gryff makes sure that I’m alright.”

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“You don’t want a strange young man looking after you,” Nellie said. “Why don’t I come in and make sure that you’re comfortable.” She tried to push past Mari into the hall.

Mari’s arm shot out and blocked the way just in time. “I wouldn’t like to bother you,” she said. “I know that you have enough on your hands.” Mari looked Nellie up and down. “After all, I know that you’ve been having problems keeping your nets clean. Perhaps I should come over to your house tomorrow and give a hand.”

Nellie glared at her. “There is nothing wrong with my net curtains,” she snapped. “And they’re not net, they’re lace.”

“You got them off Chester Market,” Mari said. “They might be from Chester, but they’re still nets.”

“I got them from a catalogue,” Nellie snarled. “And at least I don’t have a police officer arguing outside my building, with a fancy man in a suit no less!”

“What do you mean, a police officer,” Mari tried to peer over Nellie’s shoulder. “I’ve always been respectable.” She folded her arms. “Unlike some.”

Nellie stamped her foot. “My Horace did nothing wrong! It was just a case of mistaken identity.” She looked behind Mari. “And I’ve never had strange men wandering in and out of my kitchen.”

“I’m sure he never went in your kitchen,” Mari said. “But perhaps you would have washed your nets last Wednesday if Kyron hadn’t been visiting. Don’t think I didn’t see him sneaking out to catch the last bus.” She drew a breath. “And if you’re talking about my tenants, they are lovely young lads, and I won’t have a word said against them. They’re young enough to be my grandsons and I’d be proud to claim them.” She sniffed. “Of course, Kyron’s not exactly the same age as you, but I suppose you need a man about the house, what with your Horace moving to Macclesfield.”

Nellie blushed scarlet. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said. “But if you’re all sorted with strange young man, I’ll let you sort out that police officer.”

“It may just be a case of mistaken identity,” Mari called to Nellie’s back as her neighbour stormed back to her cottage on the other side of the workshop.

“Are you alright, Mrs Hewson?” Gryff whispered behind her.

Mari turned and smiled at Gryff. “Don’t worry about Nellie Parsons,” she said. “She’s been desperate to come inside and see what I did when I redecorated and I won’t give the nosy old bat satisfaction. And it drives her crackers that I get to do the cake stall for the church fairs and she always gets stuck with the book stall.”

“Your biscuits are amazing,” Gryff said. “But perhaps you should sit down.”

“I’m feeling much better after my little chat with Nellie,” Mari said. She looked over to the front of the workshop. “I can see that Carwyn’s getting upset and I don’t think that Lord Maldwyn’s helping. I’ll see if I can calm things down.”

Gryff looked at her with some respect. “If you can talk to your old lady neighbour like that, you can do anything,” he said. “She told us off when we first got here because she said her dog didn’t like the smells.”

Mari sniffed. “Pass me the keys,” she said. “We’d better lock up in case Nellie comes back.” She ushered Gryff out and locked the door. “Her dog is a nuisance,” she said. “It barks at its own shadow, day and night.” She looked at Gryff a little sheepishly. “And I usually pass on a few doggie treats when I get back from shopping. It’s only a little dog, but it does it’s best to be a guard dog and it lets us know when strangers come around.”

Gryff chuckled. “You are such a softie.” He walked carefully by her side, ready to help, as Mari made her way to the workshop. “And I’ll admit to us sending a few dog biscuits over the wall when Mrs Parsons wasn’t looking.”

“That dog would be fat as a football if Nellie didn’t take it for so many walks,” Mari said. “Of course, she only goes for walks to get a gossip and she’s firm friends with Mrs Knowles, you know, Carwyn’s mam. She can’t bear it if she doesn’t know all about everyone and she’s relentless if she thinks there’s a secret.”

Gryff looked uncomfortable. “Is she going to be asking about us?” he said.

Mari patted his shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry,” she said. “She’s convinced that Amy down the road is about to get a new sofa and she’s watching that end of the village like a hawk.” She took a deep breath as she saw the tension in Carwyn. “And if Nellie gives you any problems, you let me know. I’ll sort her out.”

Mari hoped that she could sort Carwyn out just as easily.