Free Cricket by Anna Martin Page A

dangerous, a climbing net, and several levels and turrets to explore. There was also a swing set, the entire area full of soft wood chips to minimize any potential injuries.
    Sundays at the pub were busy, partly due to the quality of the roast dinners, partly because it was one of the hubs of civilization in the village. With ten or so children crawling over the playground, Henry was fairly certain the pub inside would be packed too.
    Henry was quickly learning that being by Ryan’s side afforded him certain privileges. Ryan could, and would, pop behind the bar to pour himself a pint. It usually earned him a swat round the ear from his sister, but she didn’t seem to mind too much. He also seemed to be able to command a table somewhere to sit down and eat, even when the pub was full.
    Fortunately, there was no need to steal anyone else’s seat. Despite the number of children in the playground, their parents were sitting outside in the insipid sunshine watching them, freeing up space in the dining area.
    Henry grabbed a corner booth just as another group was vacating it and pulled out his phone to send a quick text to Shenal while Ryan got the drinks. After a few more visits to the pub, Henry had found first a tolerance, then an appreciation that was threatening to spill over into an obsession, for the local ciders. Sure, they were potent, but he was going to eat dinner, so he felt less guilty for drinking in the middle of the day.
    “I sent Shenal a text,” Henry said as Ryan slid a pint toward him over the table. “I don’t think she was doing anything today, so she might want to join us.”
    Ryan nodded. “Okay, cool. I won’t order until Paul gets here, anyway.”
    “Will he be long?”
    The smell of roast beef was wafting enticingly from the kitchens, and, having missed breakfast, he was suddenly starving.
    “Shouldn’t be. He has to lock up the church once all the little old grannies have left, but he’ll come over then.”
    “Hey,” Henry said teasingly, “That’s my little old granny you’re talking about.”
    “Begging your pardon, sir,” Ryan said, touching the imaginary brim to his hat and thickening his accent even further. “Don’t mean any ’arm by it, sir.”
    “Shut up.”
    Shenal and Paul arrived at almost the same time, although from opposite doors, and for a moment Henry wondered if they’d ever met before. Apparently not.
    Finding himself in the middle of a round of awkward, laughing introductions, Henry managed to get the two acquainted as Ryan ambled off to the kitchen to put their order in, effectively skipping the line of people at the bar who were waiting to do the same thing. No one seemed to notice, or care, that Ryan was blatantly abusing his position as the pub landlady’s brother to get his lunch quicker than everyone else.
    “How do you know Henry, then?” Paul asked Shenal as Henry sat back in the booth.
    She rolled her eyes and laughed. “It’s a bit of a long story, actually. I’m his great-grandmother’s solicitor.”
    “Oh.”
    “Nell hired Shenal, who hired an investigator to track me down in New York,” Henry offered. “She’s helping us both out with the house and the estate.”
    “I keep meaning to come down and see what you’re doing,” Paul said. “I’ve heard quite a lot along the grapevine.”
    “It’s slow going,” Henry admitted. “But it’ll get there. Give us time.”
    Shenal glanced over to the bar, which was marginally less busy than it was when they walked in.
    “Let me get a round in,” Paul said hurriedly, his eyes following the direction of hers.
    “Oh, you don’t have to—”
    “No, I want to. What are you drinking?”
    “Pint of Gold,” Henry said.
    “Same, please.”
    If he was surprised, Paul didn’t show it. “No problem.”
    “Ryan will have the same,” Henry called after him, then turned to Shenal with a gleam in his eye. “He likes you.”
    “What?” Shenal said, flustered. “Shut up.”
    “No,