Escape to Willow Cottage: The brilliant, laugh-out-loud romcom you need to read in autumn 2018. Bella Osborne

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      ‘C-h,’ said the tubby compere.

      ‘China,’ whispered Jack at the same time as Beth whispered, ‘Switzerland.’ Jack turned to look at her, his face full of superior smugness. ‘I think you’ll find it’s China,’ he said, as he wrote it on the sheet.

      ‘You’re wrong, I know it’s Switzerland,’ Beth was emphatic.

      Jack gestured to the rest of the team for an opinion and they all pulled puzzled faces and shrugged.

      ‘So what’s China then if it’s not c-h?’ asked Jack.

      Beth pondered the question. She did know someone in China but their email finished in dot com as many did. She bit her lip and pondered some more. She saw Jack smirk. ‘Look, I may not know what it is, but I know what it isn’t. And it isn’t c-h!’

      ‘Um, could it be Chile?’ offered Simon and he was instantly shot down by Jack.

      ‘No, it’s China!’

      Questions eight and nine were uncontentious as they both spat out the same country names at the same time but number ten set them against each other again.

      ‘M-c is Monaco,’ said Jack for the second time.

      ‘I think it’s Morocco,’ repeated Beth, and Jack sighed his frustration. ‘Okay, like you said to me, if m-c isn’t the Internet initials for Morocco then what is?’ She folded her arms.

      It was Jack’s turn to have a hard think. ‘I think it’s m-a,’ he said at last.

      ‘M-a?’ snorted Beth. ‘How does that fit with Morocco? There’s no “a” in Morocco.’ Jack studiously ignored her and started checking that their answer sheet was all filled in.

      Beth bought the team a round of drinks, which was well appreciated especially as it appeared that Melvyn and Audrey were planning on making their single drinks last the whole evening. Beth’s competitive side had been reawakened and there was no way she was going back to the B&B until she had been proved right. Her and Jack were still sniping about it when the answers were read out.

      ‘Number seven is Switzerland …’

      ‘Ha!’ said Beth with feeling in Jack’s right ear, making the compere turn his attention to Jack’s table.

      ‘Did you get that one, Jack?’ asked the compere, his ruddy face in a beaming smile. ‘Seeing as you’re the school IT specialist.’

      Beth sat with her arms folded and her eyebrows high, radiating smugness – she was enjoying this. Jack looked from Beth to the compere.

      ‘Uh, no. We got that one wrong, I’m afraid.’

      ‘I didn’t,’ grumbled Beth, as she took a swig of her drink.

      ‘Sorry,’ mumbled Jack but before Beth could ask him to repeat what he’d said the answers for nine and ten were being read out.

      ‘Nine, South Africa and ten, Monaco.’

      A huge grin spread across Jack’s face. ‘Monaco, not Morocco. Do you have something you’d like to say?’

      ‘Sorry,’ mumbled Beth. Jack looked complacent.

      ‘Another drink? To show there’s no hard feelings.’ Jack was already on his feet. ‘You need to stay for the results – we might have won sausages!’

      Beth shook her head. Had she misheard him with all the babble in the pub?

      Jack returned with the drinks. ‘Petra says I need to play nice,’ he said, tilting his head towards the bar where Petra was wagging a finger in his direction as well as giving him a sultry wink.

      ‘She’s right,’ said Beth, taking her drink.

      ‘Look, it’s the school holidays so I have a few days to myself. Would you like a hand with the cottage?’

      ‘I don’t think I’m ready for my IT to be installed just yet but thanks.’

      ‘I meant taking the boards down and stuff. I renovated my place but, mind you, it wasn’t as neglected as Wilf’s.’

      ‘What makes you think I need your help?’ Beth’s tone was waspish.

      Jack looked taken aback. ‘I’ve seen Wilf’s place and from the car you arrived in I’m guessing you’ve not got a ladder stashed in there?’

      Smartarse, thought Beth. She was tussling with her defences, which were on high alert following Nick but at the same time her common sense told her this was a genuine offer, not an attempt to patronize her.

      ‘Will everyone please stop calling it Wilf’s.’ She knew she sounded prickly. ‘Sorry, but it’s really annoying.’

      Jack sipped his Guinness. ‘I think you’ll find it’ll be Wilf’s for a while yet. People round here take time to adjust to change. The bungalows where Ernie lives are always referred to as the “new” bungalows. They were built in 1975!’

      ‘Blimey,’ said Beth, feeling more than a little silly for her outburst.

      ‘The offer of help is there if you want it. Do you usually get people in?’

      Beth sipped her drink again and shook her head. What was Jack talking about? She’d never done this before.

      ‘I assumed you renovated places for a living?’ he added.

      Duh! thought Beth. The alcohol was letting her guard down. The last thing she wanted to do was start giving away information about her previous life. She shook her head theatrically. ‘I do get people in for anything structural but this is my first project like this. Usually it’s more of a general spruce up; painting and decorating, interior design. That sort of thing.’ She took a deep breath, she found lying was quite uncomfortable.

      ‘Right,’ said Jack, looking satisfied with the explanation. ‘So, do you want a hand then? I’m free tomorrow.’

      Beth was taken aback by the offer. She could say no but that wouldn’t be making a stand for independent womankind; it would be cutting off her nose to spite her face.

      ‘I know that’s probably the Guinness talking but I’m going to say yes, please.’

      Simon, Melvyn and Audrey already had their cardigans on ready to leave as the compere started up again. ‘Third place are the Village Idiots.’ Beth leaned forward to get a look at that team because, quite frankly, that could be half the village. ‘Second place tonight and only three points behind the winners was the Quizzly Bears. Sorry, Maureen.’ Everyone looked over to where Maureen was downing her pint with a face like a thundercloud.

      ‘And the winners are … The Spanish Inquisition.’

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