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As the season progressed, we had a flurry of customers in the tea shop during the week. The village was at its most picturesque in the early summer sunshine. The air was pleasantly warm, and everywhere there was a sense of the changing season, filled with unspoken promise, reminiscent of glorious childhood summers and school holidays.
‘It must be funny living in a climate where there are no seasons,’ I said to Hannah one day, in a quiet moment.
The sky had grown increasingly overcast throughout the morning until, at around two o’clock, it began to rain steadily, putting paid to our hopes of a busy teatime.
Hannah scowled, looking out of the window at the torrential rain. ‘As opposed to a climate where the season can change several times in one day. It was lovely and sunny this m
