hand and one foot on the rung of a barstool. I had the impression that they were farmers.
He nodded to a woman walking behind the bar.
She smiled in return. “Good noon, mayor?” she said, but her eyes had immediately glanced off him and fixed on me.
“Molly,” he said, as if that was an answer to her question. “This is Ms. Hayworth.”
The two patrons stopped their dialogue and turned to see who’d arrived. “No. Please. That’s way too formal. I’d rather be thought of as just plain Rita.”
Fie took command of the room. “First names all around everybody,” he announced.
Fie pointed to the two at the bar. “Jack and Ebon.”
Putting myself within handshaking distance only required two steps. So I closed the space, shook hands with both of them, and was treated to warm smiles in return.
“And that’s Molly,” he gestured to the tall brunette behind the bar. She looked close to my age and beyond the stage of caring what people thought. I liked that.
I chuckled. “I guessed that when you called her Molly earlier.” I hoped he knew my teasing was good-natured.
A smiled played on Molly’s bow-shaped mouth. She was clearly enjoying the joke. “How’s your day, Rita?”
“Good so far. Hungry.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place at the right time. Sit anywhere.”
I looked at Fie. He smiled and said, “Ladies’ choice.”
Since I had a thing for tables by windows, I motioned in that direction and he nodded. Sitting down I looked out at the circle and noticed that pedestrian traffic had picked up some.
“So I have the honor of lunching with the mayor?” I asked.
With a soundless laugh, he said, “More a nickname than a title. Hallow Hill doesn’t actually have a mayor.”
“There must be some reason for the nickname.”
He wagged his head from side to side. “We do have a local idea of community, loosely organized, and a shared treasury. Such as it is. I guess people thought that, since I’m the banker, it made sense to put me in charge of the money.”
I laughed.
“What?” he said.
“Well…” I was sorry I’d laughed. “Promise not to take offense?”
“I do.”
“In America, most of us would think a banker would be the last person who should be in charge of money belonging to the commons.”
He grinned. “May such distrust of bankers never catch on in Hallow Hill.”
Molly arrived with a menu for me. It was printed on paper designed to look like parchment and housed in a leather cover. It gave the impression of being old, but that was obviously what was intended.
“You’ll know it by heart before long,” she said. “We do change the soup daily. So, if you’re interested, just ask.”
“Okay. What’s the soup today?”
“Winter white.” I glanced at the cold fireplace. “It’s the name year-round. Potatoes, carrots, leeks, cream.”
“Sounds good.”
“That what you’re having then?”
“Maybe. I want a chance to explore options.”
Molly looked at Fie. “She means give us a couple of minutes with the menu.”
“I’ll be back.”
When she was gone, I said, “She really needs to learn to say that Terminator-style.”
He squinted. “What do you mean?”
“Um. Nothing. It was silly. American pop culture from the eighties. Never mind.”
“So what do you think of our little village? Did you go down to the river? See the mill wheel?”
“Not yet, but I was told it’s a hit with tourists. So how long have you been here?”
“I’m not from here, but I’ve been here long enough to feel like a native.”
“And you like it.”
“I’ve a feeling I’ve been promoted to ambassador for the village. At least for the duration of this lunch.” His eyes traveled down the menu I was holding. “Know what you want yet?”
“What are you having? No. Wait. The better question is, what’s your favorite thing on the menu?”
“Bangers and mash.”
“Ew. No. Never mind.” He chuckled as I looked down.
The door was opening and closing every few minutes and the pub was beginning to look like it might be busy for lunch.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m having fish and chips. If I’m still here tomorrow, I’m having Guiness beef stew. If I’m still here the day after that, I’m having the roast chicken.”
“You’ve already ruled out the soups? Without hearing what they are?”
“You didn’t ask about the soup.”
“Because I already knew I was having bangers and mash.”
“Do you ever have the soup?”
“No.”
“Not the most outstanding recommendation. Why not?”
“Because soup is not manly.”
I stared for a couple of beats before laughing. “You’re joking, right?”
“Hard to say.”
“What do you mean, hard to say? You don’t know whether you’re joking or