Olivia Hallinan hasn’t had much to do with Laura Timmins beyond smiling sweetly to the customers in the Post Office, coyly at any passing young man, or sternly at the wayward antics of young Minnie. She showed her acting chops this week though, as she came to terms first with wanting Fisher Bloom to stay and, minutes later, with having to say goodbye to him.

With the now surely world-famous clock wanting but a single part, the pressure was on for Laura and Fisher to get off the fence, or the bench, or the old stump, or whatever else it was they’d been sitting on, and declare their love for one another. As it was, they were pretty much the only pair in Candleford (or Lark Rise) that didn’t know.

A story from her mother’s youth, when she had thrown a hammer belonging to young journeyman mason Robert Timmins into the brambles, thus preventing him from leaving until he’d had enough time to make up his mind to marry her, gave Laura a clue as to what she should do about the Fisher situation. When the clock part finally arrived, she hid it. As it turned out, Fisher was slightly less circumspect that Laura’s father and didn’t need the added complication of not having his part to play with. These are more modern times, after all, and a man can declare his love without recourse to letters, or chaperones, or hammers in brambles.

Indeed, in another not-too distant part of Candleford, a certain vicar’s daughter can in these times eloquently express her frustrations through the suggestive delicate fingering of a spout on her newly-acquired teapot, leading a certain upright postal delivery operative to strap up said teapot, along with all its porcelain companions, with several miles of twine, and dump it on the highest Post Office shelf available, pending the day of the actual nuptials.

The shelving of teapots coincided neatly with the inability of Laura to find the hidden clock part, it being no longer where she’d left it. This caused a deal of consternation in Lark Rise (and Candleford) and some harsh words were said between those other star-crossed lovers: James and Dorcas. This consternation was as nothing though, beside the devastating loss of his toolbag endured by Robert Timmins. As if his entire toolkit had been thrown into the brambles along with his hammer. Ah, if only they were so easy to retrieve. But the thief had been busy selling them to all and sundry, for a pittance, giving Robert just the kind of chance he needed to exhibit his world-beating indignation, pride, and above all a classic pout such as should never cloud the face of man. And to think that only moments before he had been sipping champagne with his lovely missus and admiring the new boots on his children’s feet. Just goes to show that it doesn’t do to get above yourself in Candleford (or Lark Rise).

All – almost all – was well in the end though. Lark Rise wouldn’t be Lark Rise without a happy ending. The part was found (Minnie had been transported into paroxysms of romantic delight by the story of the hammer in the brambles, and decided to perform a similar service for Laura and Fisher); the clock was finished; and Pouty Timmins had a few new tools bought for him by the generosity of his many satisfied customers in Candleford. Which only left poor Laura, still sobbing into her candlewick as Fisher took his leave of the sleepy town, which as a result of his labours will be slightly less sleepy now, when the clock chimes the hour.