Pastures New. Julia Williams

work, and Amy was about to set off for the neighbouring town of Upper Langley to hand them out to the rich and pampered good ladies of the parish, who seemed to have oodles of time to visit the local nail bar, but rather less for tedious things like flower displays. Thanks to Amy’s bright idea to put her leaflet into beauty salons as well as hairdressers the phone hadn’t stopped ringing.

      ‘I don’t think I want to see another pine cone ever again,’ said Saffron with a groan. ‘Remind me, who wants this lot?’

      ‘It’s for Linda Lovelace.’

      Saffron snorted. ‘That’s not her real name, surely?’