Isobel looked inside. ‘Jumbles!’ She picked one up. ‘It’s been a long time since I had one of these.’

Ann pushed the tin a little further across the table. ‘Help yourself.’

‘If you’re sleeping in the dining room, where do you eat?’

‘I do almost everything in here, because it’s warm.’ Ann opened her arms to include the whole kitchen. ‘It means I only have two fires to light in the winter. And if I’m honest, most of the time I often only bother with this one.’

‘You don’t heat upstairs at all?’

‘There isn’t any point. It would be a waste of good coal. It’s saved me a fortune, although I can feel the chill coming down the stairs to meet me in the mornings. But of course, all that will change as soon as you’ve decided which room you want.’

Isobel nibbled at the almond biscuit. ‘I honestly would prefer to go back into my old room, for now at least. It’s familiar so I think I’ll sleep well up there.’

‘I suppose that’s alright, if you’re completely sure,’ Ann conceded reluctantly. ‘But not if you’re thinking of being the maid of the house again. I won’t hear of it.’

‘You’ll be needing some help, though.’ Isobel was already casting a surreptitious glance along the mantelpiece and checking for dust on the backs of the chairs.

‘Times have changed, Isobel. I’m not saying it’s been easy, but I’ve managed fairly well since Ursula died. The hardest thing has been the silence, and that won’t be an issue now you’re here.’

‘I know what that’s like. When there’s no one to have a meal with, and you find yourself imagining the conversations you might have had.’

‘Exactly. I walk around this place talking to myself so I don’t forget how to use my voice, some days.’

‘You can talk to me now.’

‘I know.’ Ann smiled and then frowned immediately afterwards. ‘I don’t like the idea of you being in that tiny room, though, especially when there isn’t a fireplace up there. But if you really won’t change your mind then I’ve got a little electric fire, and I insist you use it.’ She put her hand into the biscuit tin and pulled out an irregularly shaped jumble. ‘And you’ll not be getting up before six in the morning either. You are my guest, so I don’t want to find you down here stirring the porridge before I get up.’

‘For now.’

‘Pardon?’

‘I’m your guest for now. But I’ll be needing to find a way to earn a living soon. My savings are almost used up. And I have to return the money you sent. I mean, I’m very grateful to you, but I must repay it.’