Now that Tom ran the Store it was unusual to find Jimbo serving his customers. He raised his boater in greeting and gave Liz a smacking kiss on her cheek. ‘Good morning, my dear Liz. How’s things?’ ‘Fine, thanks. And you? What are you doing serving me? I thought you’d given all that up.’ Jimbo smoothed a hand over his bald head and replaced his boater. ‘Tom’s day off. Truth to tell, I miss the cut and thrust of the day behind the counter, so one day a week is excellent therapy.’ He paused to take someone’s money for a newspaper. ‘I’m asking everyone who comes in if they know anything about a strange chap who was seen in the village yesterday.’ ‘Yesterday?’ The only thing she could remember about yesterday was the fearful row she and Neville had when she got home. ‘I don’t remember seeing anyone new.’ It had been the row to end all rows. ‘What did he want?’ ‘That’s just it, no one knows. Apparently he sat outside the pub for hours, then went into the pub, wandered about, went into the church and chatted to Zack about the village as he polished the pews, caught Greta Jones just as she was leaving here after work, then got on the teatime bus into Culworth.’ Liz shook her head.
