‘How about we increase the size of the ice-creams?’ she said to Joan, as they waited for the first customers, one morning on the second week of August. ‘Give them a cheeky extra half-scoop. Word will soon get around.’
‘We’ll make no money.’
‘But you’ll get them in the door, and then they’ll buy other stuff.’
‘I’ll ask Mum about it, but I can’t see her going for it. She’ll want to make as much money as possible before she sells up.’
Outside, the Suncrust Pasty van pulled up. A couple of minutes later Steve Hedge pushed through the door, dragging a trolley of pasty boxes behind him.
‘How are you both this fine morning?’ he asked, a larger-than-usual grin on his face.
Joan smiled, and Grace just shrugged. ‘What’s up with you?’ Joan asked.
Hedges set down the trolley and picked up a car
