The boys froze suddenly, then they turned as one and marched around the back of the property. Slightly spooked, Lissa followed them.

A very petite dark-haired woman with a friendly, open face came out of the kitchen door with a tea towel over her shoulder.

“Hello! I forgot you were coming! Well, I thought you were coming the other day . . .”

“Sorry about that,” said Lissa.

“That’s okay,” said the woman, smiling in a friendly way. “I know what it’s like when you first get here. Isn’t everything huge?”

“I thought Scotland was meant to be a small country.”

“I know . . . Shackleton! Get the oven.”

A tall shambling teenage boy came out with a tray of cooling scones. “Chill your boots, already done it,” he said.

“Excellent,” said the woman, introducing herself as Zoe. “Want to come in? And have a scone?”

“You’re English?” said Lissa, surprised.

“Oh yes! You too! Ha, we’re invading the place. Oh God, Mrs. Murray will have a fit.”

“Is that the woman who runs the grocery?”

“Don’t mind her, her bark is worse than her bite,” said Zoe. “You could say that about a lot of people round here,” she continued, as they passed an older lady who was cleaning boots rather ferociously by the sink.

She put an old-fashioned kettle on the stove, then picked up a list from the messy sideboard. What a comforting room this was, Lissa found herself thinking. She started unpacking her kit.

“Hari needs his MMR booster, but I don’t think Patrick has had his at all.”

Lissa frowned. “But . . . I thought they were twins.”

Zoe yelped with laughter. “Boys!” she shouted. “Stop it! Nobody believes you’re twins, and you’re just confusing people!”

“We are absolutely nearly twins,” said Patrick, and Hari nodded solemnly, pointing at his dungarees as proof.

“Isn’t it clear they’re not related?” said Zoe, still smiling as she poured out tea.

“I’ve met mixed-race twins before who looked different races,” said Lissa.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, absolutely. Fascinating.”

“She absolutely thinks we’re twins, Nanny Seven,” said Patrick.

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Right,” she said. “Patrick is five.”

“And a half.”

“Five and a half, and he’s Shackleton’s little brother . . . half brother. Did Joan not explain this all to you?”

“She just said it was complicated, then went back to reading a book about cow operations.”

“That does sound like Joan,” mused Zoe. “Okay. She’s right, it’s complicated. Hari’s mine and the rest are Ramsay’s. Oh, actually, that’s not too complicated when you think about it.”

“Zoe and Ramsay are in love,” said Patrick. “And that is why we are now absolutely twins.”

“Aye,” said Hari, nodding his head to emphasize the wisdom of Patrick’s pronouncement.

Zoe colored. “Oh well,” she said.

Lissa smiled. “Did you move all the way up here for a man?”