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crammed them all in on Saturday, hoping somebody would buy the whole lot. They should have gone out to the back room, really. They won’t last much longer.’
    ‘There’s a lot of waste in this business,’ said Melanie regretfully.
    ‘I liked the model you had in the window,’ said Bonnie, as if trying to find something to admire. ‘It was unusual. I saw it at Christmas, and wondered if somebody would buy it.’
    ‘It wasn’t for sale. Ben and I made it. It was always dreadfully fragile, though. I tried to move it last week and the whole thing fell to bits. I had to throw it away, which was an awful shame.’
    The model had been a representation of a local landmark, which was itself a kind of model, being a small tower only fitfor fairies or elves to inhabit. Simmy had fallen in love with it on her first day in Windermere, and when Ben described seeing clever constructions made of dried seedpods, sticks, nutshells and other natural materials, in America they had been inspired to try one of their own.
    ‘Right. I gotta go,’ said Melanie. ‘Late already. See you.’ And she made a determined exit, leaving the other two like abandoned children to make the best of it.
    ‘Well …’ began Simmy, unsure as to what came next. ‘We’d better get cracking on those funeral orders, and see if we can work out a system for the week. I’ll show you the back room first.’
    But before she could act on her words, a customer appeared, wanting advice as to how to create an eye-catching centrepiece for her dining table. Whilst dealing with the questions, Simmy was half aware that Bonnie was talking into her mobile, near the front of the shop.
    When the woman had gone, Simmy cocked a questioning eye at the phone still in the girl’s hand. ‘Sorry – don’t you want me to make calls? It’s just I’m supposed to say where I am.’
    ‘No, that’s okay.’ It both was and wasn’t, she realised. Reassuring that Bonnie had someone keeping tabs on her, and annoying that there were likely to be constant distracting conversations as a result.
    Bonnie followed her into the back room and listened and asked a few questions and appeared to be coping with the new situation well enough. But Simmy found the need to go carefully something of a strain. Where Melanie had been big and capable and outspoken, she was almost afraid of breaking Bonnie if she accidentally trod on her.
    ‘I won’t be able to come on Monday,’ the girl said, at one point. ‘I’ve got a meeting with one of the teachers that day, and some sort of test to see what’s best for me to do next year. At least, I could do the afternoon here, if you like.’
    ‘No problem.’ Simmy waved the subject away. Monday felt too far off to worry about. Anything might happen by then.

Chapter Five
    The day ended with Bonnie promising to return next morning for further instruction.
    ‘I should pay you,’ Simmy realised. ‘We haven’t discussed that side of things at all. How very unbusinesslike of me.’
    ‘Oh, just some pocket money will do for now. You don’t have to get into all the paperwork and tax and stuff, as far as I’m concerned.’
    A girl after Russell Straw’s heart, Simmy thought, with a smile. ‘Well, I suppose we’ll have to eventually, but for a week or two I’m happy to keep it informal, if you like.’
    ‘Thanks,’ said Bonnie, as if relieved.
    ‘How will you get home?’
    ‘Walk. It’s not far. I’m staying at a place in Heathwaite at the moment.’
    This sounded odd to Simmy, and she tried to link it with the few facts that Melanie had conveyed that morning. ‘With your family, you mean?’
    ‘Sort of. I’m living with my aunt. It suits us both. Don’t worry about me,’ she added urgently. ‘I hate that.’
    ‘I wasn’t,’ Simmy defended. ‘You must be fairly near my parents, I presume. They’re in Lake Road.’
    Bonnie nodded carelessly. ‘I’m in Oakthwaite.’
    ‘Oh, I know,’ said Simmy. ‘There are all those