‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Frustration flooded out of her. ‘I was going to offer you a room here. A free room. Without any rent.’

His laughter evaporated as soon as it had surfaced. ‘Absolutely not!’

‘But I have plenty of space and you need somewhere to live.’

He frowned at her, a heavy expression she had never seen on his face before. ‘I do not need charity. Not yours and not anyone else’s either. I’ve known Rab’s mother since I was a wee lad in primary school. She has made me a kind offer and I will take it because I can help them out while I’m staying there. I am not a charity case.’ He picked up the plane. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a door to sort out.’

Chapter 40

Mid-May 1931

‘Keith didn’t stay long,’ said Isobel as she came back into the scullery from upstairs.

Ann didn’t reply. She picked up a potato and dunked it in a basin of water in the sink to get the last of the earth off.

‘That’s the bedroom fireplaces all cleaned properly at last,’ continued Isobel. ‘I needed to check no soot had fallen down, with them not being used for so long.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I don’t expect we’ll be needing any more fires until October.’ Isobel watched as Ann removed the potato skin with the peeler.

‘You’re probably right.’

‘And it might be a good idea to get a sweep booked; it’s cheaper in the summer.’

Ann finished removing the outer skin, and kept peeling, taking away more and more of the creamy flesh in a single long, paper-thin strip. ‘Good idea.’

Isobel couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a one-sided conversation with anyone, let alone with Ann, who was normally so chatty. She tried again. ‘All the rooms are going to need a proper scrub if we’re going to have people sleeping up there. And there’s the drawing room. I haven’t started in there yet.’

‘It won’t be necessary.’ Ann lifted the almost transparent curl of potato up high in the air and dropped it into the bucket beside the sink. She rinsed what was left of the potato, chopped it into quarters and added it to the saucepan beside her before drying her hands. She turned to look at Isobel. ‘Let’s just say my conversation with Keith didn’t go according to plan.’

Confusion was written all over Isobel’s face. ‘I don’t understand.’

Ann examined her fingers one by one; they had become prune-like in the water. ‘I didn’t get the chance to explain it to him properly,’ she replied eventually. ‘I said I had a proposal for him and he laughed at me. I’m telling you now, I never want to hear that word ever again. I feel like a complete fool.’