It’s going dark outside when Georgia comes into the drawing room to close the shutters and draw the curtains. ‘That’s nice of Tess to lay the fire,’ she says to Baxter, who has followed her and is taking up his now customary position on the rug, ready to absorb the warmth as soon as it’s available. She studies the triangles of newspaper. ‘I’ve never seen it done like that before.’ She crouches down, and lifts a lump of coal between her fingertips to get a better look at the architecture of Tess’s work. The nest of shredded paper is no longer hidden by the rolled-up firelighters and she catches sight of part of a logo on one of the strips. ‘What’s this?’ She tugs at it and peers at the headed paper. ‘Well I may have left my reading glasses in the kitchen, Baxter, but I recognise the name. Tearing up solicitor’s letters is never a good thing, and I should know that if anyone does.’ She rests back on her heels and strikes a match. ‘One letter could be a mistake,’ she reassures herself. ‘But more than one would definitely be a problem. I suppose it’s a case of wait and see, Baxter, isn’t it? I can’t tar everyone with the same brush, after all.’

*

They sit at the kitchen table, with Baxter at their feet. He is perpetually hopeful of a scrap of something tasty. The rule about feeding him in the scullery and not in the kitchen is ruthlessly enforced by Tess, but Baxter has learned that when Tess is out, Georgia is not quite as strict, and he lives in hope.

‘I know mature cheddar is a thing of beauty,’ says Tess as she grates the cheese, ‘but this stuff seems a bit wasted on a basic cauliflower au gratin.’

‘Not at all.’

‘Wouldn’t supermarket cheddar work just as well?’

‘It might, but I don’t like all the plastic. Mellis’s costs more but it’s wrapped in waxed paper. Aren’t we supposed to be saving the planet?’

Tess thinks about the smoke that will be rising up the chimney from the coal fire in the drawing room and decides to keep her thoughts to herself.

‘Save the rind,’ says Georgia. ‘I’ll have that later.’

‘You eat the rind?’

‘It’s just the outside of the cheese gone hard, and it’s the best bit. Annie and I used to fight over it when I was a child.’

‘Your sister?’

Georgia shakes her head, and the subject seems closed. ‘Get the cornflour down, please.’

Tess reaches into the larder for the flour.

‘Not plain flour, cornflour.’

Tess frowns, but does as she is asked.