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Noémi felt her hackles rise and her face fall as her precious customers smiled back at him and made their way to the front of his shop.

‘No, no. The book club’s this way!’ Noémi said, as loudly as she could above the jolly greetings that were happening. ‘Come and cosy in.’

She waved a hand, trying to look friendly and interesting, and like the sort of person who was ready to host fun armchair adventures – complete with fruit cake. But as her eyes wandered sideways to Shay, she had a sudden fear that she could not compete. How could anyone grab more attention than a man dressed as a carrot, now with added tinsel, and flashing lights around his stupid angelic hair? That in itself was an accident waiting to happen. Though to top it off, he had an entourage of goats in Santa coats, wearing antlers to mimic reindeer.

And he had the absolute cheek to give her the widest grin. ‘You decided to join us on the reindeer trek. Excellent news! Can I put you in charge of Vixen?’ He nodded towards the group of goats, which Texan Jim was doing a slapstick job of trying to herd.

‘Your reindeer trek is today?’ Had he engineered this to ruin her first book club meeting?

And never mind Vixen. As Noémi’s eyes slid to the contents of the silver tray Shay held in front of him, the word villain filled her mind. Smiling, damned villain, as Shakespeare had so eloquently phrased it in Hamlet. Not that Shay had killed anyone – yet. Though she had seen him acting shiftily with a shovel, so he had a lot of explaining to do.

‘How dare you,’ Noémi heard herself say, her blood boiling, even though the weather was chilly.

‘How dare I …?’ Shay looked genuinely confused – although who was to say what was genuine around here.

The crowd of spectators gawped.

Oh, where to begin. She pointed an angry finger at his tray. ‘Are those Christmas cookies?’ Her voice wobbled. Wasn’t anything sacred around here? She knew she didn’t own seasonal cookies. Hell, she could barely eat one without having a meltdown, let alone bake one. But he’d heard people say she used to make award-winning ones. Wasn’t it enough that he was offering adventures which his tagline claimed were ‘The Best You Can Get’? Did he have to steal the baked goods mantle too? ‘You’re not even into fun snacks, Mr Fitness Tracker. You said cookies weren’t a healthy option, before sneering about the sort of people who sat around eating them.’

‘I didn’t.’ He cocked his head as though he was thinking about it.

He was probably trying to wake up his brain cells.

‘Or if it came out that way, I didn’t mean it to,’ he added, looking briefly perplexed. ‘And I did inform you that the trek was today. I put a whole handful of leaflets in that box you were carrying yesterday.’ He looked to Texan Jim for corroboration, though he was busy trying to unknot a tangle of goat leads.

Oh, those leaflets. Well, she hadn’t bothered to look at them. She’d thrown them straight in the bin when she’d got back to her shop.

‘And a book club? I didn’t realize. I don’t think I got an invite?’

Now he was pretending to look forlorn, as if he even cared about books. It was true he may not have known about her event because she definitely hadn’t told him, but still. She’d been here first, and she didn’t need to run things past him as if he were king of the road.

Noémi took a step towards Shay and his tray trembled. ‘He’s terribly clumsy,’ she said to their spectators. ‘I do hope you’ve considered your safety. And if this is the event with the fire jugglers …’

‘Clumsiness literally only happens when you’re around,’ she heard him mutter. ‘You’re all perfectly safe on my trips,’ he assured the onlookers. ‘You can view all of my insurances, certificates, and testimonials displayed on the walls of my shop.’ His smiley, confident teeth were back.

‘Aye, if anything was off, I’d be the first to pounce on it,’ said Carrie, by way of backup. ‘Everything’s in order, and the zip wiring was a blast.’

Was Carrie mouthing ‘Hottie Totty’ behind Shay’s back? This was really not the time.

‘And he’s a darn sight better than me with a herd of goats,’ said Texan Jim, whose cowboy boots were now encircled by goat leads.

Noémi couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her chest that everyone was siding with Shay, even though this might only be a stand-off in her eyes.

‘You guys are grand,’ said Shay. ‘What a cracking village. Come, come. Grab yourselves a Christmas-tree-shaped cookie. You’re going to love my special ingredient.’

Special ingredient? What was he trying to do, snatch her award-winning crown too? Or did he mean ‘special’ as in mind-alteringly illegal? Oh. Maybe that was what he’d been up to, heading towards the woods that morning with a garden implement. She knew this man could not be trusted. Well, she had better warn people.

‘Wait!’ Her voice rang out louder than anybody was used to, and she held up a hand. ‘I saw you up at the care home earlier with a shovel. If your special ingredient is something dodgy that you’re growing in their wooded area, then I suggest you declare it before we have a cracking village full of stoned people.’

Reverend Godbee’s hand froze mid-grab, his eyes widening. Carrie was barging her way to the front, suddenly far more interested in getting her hands on Shay’s platter.

‘I ought to have an official taste test to be sure there’s nothing untoward,’ said Carrie.

Though Shay was stepping towards Noémi, his eyes faintly amused.

‘One minute you have me down as a health obsessive, the next you’re painting me as the hill’s clandestine drug pusher. Those books you read give you an impressive imagination.’

And there he was again, mocking her reading habits. ‘At least my pastimes wouldn’t get me a stretch in jail.’ OK, so she might be jumping to a few unfounded conclusions, but it was better to be safe than sorry. And he still hadn’t explained that shovel.