The four women made their way up the stairs and paused on the landing at the top. ‘Here we have a second bathroom, and four other rooms. Two are bedrooms for Mr Buchan and Mr Anderson. One is empty for the moment, and the fourth room is the parlour.’ She threw open the door. ‘We haven’t used it as a parlour for many years and, as you can see, it’s in the process of being wallpapered. This might be yours, Olivia. It’s the biggest room in the house, and I’ve been thinking that when you start your course next year, there may be a fellow student who might like to share it with you? It would make it a little less costly for your parents, and it might help your academic work if you have someone with whom to discuss your studies.’ She anticipated Mrs Sidcup’s protest. ‘It would also mean you have a friend of your own age here. I would not want you to feel you are stuck in this house with a collection of antiquarian residents.’

Ann could see Olivia processing all the information logically, just as Finlay would have, examining the arguments and possibilities.

‘I am sure there will be someone suitable,’ Olivia replied. ‘And while I wait to begin, I can look for a job.’

Beatrice Sidcup could no longer contain herself. ‘Perhaps we could leave your maid and Olivia together to look around more thoroughly. I have some questions about the unusual living arrangements in this household.’ She turned and left the room.

Ann nodded at Isobel. They had both forecast this reaction.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Beatrice Sidcup was incandescent. ‘I cannot believe that you have hoodwinked me.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I know Isobel is your maid – Daniel told me about her, and her history of thieving.’ Ann looked at her, saying nothing and allowing Mrs Sidcup to hang herself. ‘And I was unaware that you had men staying in the house. There are no keys in any of the locks on the doors, and you aren’t going to tell me that Isobel uses the downstairs bathroom in the night.’

‘Oh, she does,’ replied Ann, crossing her fingers quickly in her pocket, ‘it’s not a word of a lie. We both do.’

‘I simply do not believe you. I think you are an . . .’ she searched for a description, ‘. . . an extraordinarily manipulative woman.’

Ann stiffened. ‘That’s your prerogative, Mrs Sidcup, but I invite you to examine the contents of the medicine cabinet in the downstairs bathroom and to smell the fragranced soap which sits beside the sink. It is not a place a man would use.’

They didn’t hear Isobel and Olivia coming down the stairs and along the hall to the kitchen.

‘And as for Isobel being my maid, she is no such thing. Isobel is my friend. She is my equal. As are the two gentlemen who live here.’