[Primrose Bolger]

‘Oh Sir!’ returned Ginger, seeing the gentleman was certainly eager for news of his friend. ‘I’m sorry to be of no help to you. But I’ve only just come to the Inn for this week.’ Rebalancing the tray of Apple-Brown-Betty on her hand, she hurried on with her explanation. ‘There’s to be a handfasting here at the Inn, come the end of the week. Many of us lasses have been sent in by our mums to help Cook out.’

She saw his expression fall at this bit of news. ‘There’s Ruby . . . there by the bar – pulling half-pints for the thirsty fellows. Ask her. If anyone should know about who’s come and gone through the Inn it might be Ruby Brown.’

Fallon and Gil, a few half-pints themselves under their loosened belts, had both taken their napkins from their collars and were waving wildly at her as their tablemates cheered them on. ‘Sorry, Sir,’ she said again, giving him the briefest of bobs as she stepped away from his table. ‘I’ve some lads with sweet-tooths wanting their dessert.’