“Quite the opposite,” said Zoe. “I moved here to get away from one. Anyway, here we are.”

“Right,” said Lissa. The scones were delicious, but it was time to get moving. She washed her hands carefully in the big old butler’s sink, then looked around for a place to line the children up.

A thin, sallow girl loped in, looking anxious. “I hate medical things,” she said.

“You hate everything,” said Shackleton. “What? Just saying.”

Zoe shot him a look and put her arms around the girl. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m right here.”

“I’m just sick of nurses.”

“It’ll be quick. But then you’ll be safe. And I don’t want you to catch the measles.”

“Mum didn’t either!”

“Of course she didn’t.” Zoe held the girl closer. “We’ll get through this, I’ll get some bought cake for later.”

The girl smiled.

“Oi!” said Shackleton. “What’s wrong with my cake?”

“Bought cake! Bought cake!” the little ones were already shouting, clasping hands in delight.

Zoe smiled. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s a bit of a madhouse here.”

It didn’t look like a madhouse, Lissa thought. It looked lovely. A fire burned in the big kitchen grate and a large dog was wandering about aimlessly, and there were pictures on the wall and music blaring and a stew on the stove, and she couldn’t help herself feeling envious all of a sudden.

“You like it here, then?” she said.

“Oh yes,” said Zoe, sounding heartfelt. “Oh yes, I really do.”

She saw Lissa’s face.

“But it took a while, I promise.”

“I’m only here for a bit. But I like it too!”

“Well, try and enjoy it,” said Zoe, laughing. “Right, shall we move them somewhere slightly more hygienic than a kitchen with a dog in it and flour everywhere?”

They pushed open the door to a beautiful sitting room lined with books, and Zoe sat all the children on a slippery ottoman.

“Ramsay!” she yelled up the stairway, and just about the tallest man Lissa had ever seen came downstairs and draped his arms over Zoe’s shoulders.

“Ah,” he said, looking embarrassed. “Yes. I’ve been meaning to . . . yes. Well.”

“Have you got their red books?” asked Lissa.

The very tall man frowned. “Ah. The thing is . . . I have about ten thousand books, and, well, I’m not . . .”

Lissa produced three new health books from her bag—Hari’s was in perfect order—and made Zoe and Ramsay fill them all in while the children shifted uncomfortably and Patrick attempted to get into a kicking match with Mary, who finally grabbed a book off a shelf and moved to the window seat to ignore him.

“Shall I put both twins down on the one form?” asked Ramsay wryly as he filled in the forms, and Zoe shot him a look.

“Stop it! You’re making everything worse.”