It sounded like an intrusive question but Gilly knew it wasn’t. William was her accountant, after all, and well used to the demands on the Bank of Mum made on her by her son, though very rarely by Helena.

‘I’ve been invited to lunch on Sunday. Cressida has “an exciting plan” and, to be honest, if they didn’t need my money I doubt she’d have mentioned it. On the phone, anyway.’

William nodded slowly. ‘Do you have any idea how much?’

Gilly shook her head. ‘Not really, but I imagine as it’s a lunch, and they’ve invited Helena too, it must be quite a lot or they wouldn’t feel the need to involve her.’

‘I see.’

Gilly felt that William managed to express quite a lot of disapproval with those two short words. He wasn’t even frowning. She went on. ‘It’s Helena I’d like to help, if I can. She’s being evicted quite soon and she’s found it hard to find new premises, as she needs quite a large space. Her friend Amy – also a weaver but who uses small looms – doesn’t have the same trouble and has already found somewhere.’

William nodded. Gilly ploughed on. ‘I wondered if I could let Helena have the ground-floor bedroom as a studio? She hasn’t asked me, of course, she never asks me for money, but if I end up giving her brother something I have to do something for her too, to make it fair.’

William didn’t reply immediately, giving Gilly the impression he was preparing to give bad news. ‘To be honest, Mrs Claire, if you gave up that room you’d stop being profitable. The other rooms give you enough money to pay for the upkeep of the house but it’s the extra room that makes the profit. And it’s your only room with disabled access and going on your TripAdvisor ratings, people do really love it.’

‘You’ve looked me up on TripAdvisor?’ Gilly was surprised and a little bit indignant.

William nodded. ‘I did my research.’ He went on: ‘You had to spend quite a lot of money converting the bathroom for wheelchair access. Even if Helena paid you rent it wouldn’t cover the lost income.’

The trouble with her accountant, Gilly thought, was that he was nearly always right. And at that particular moment she couldn’t think of a time when he’d been wrong. She examined the large ring she wore on her wedding finger. She’d bought it herself as a symbol of her independence when she was finally free of her ex-husband.

‘I can’t believe you looked me up on TripAdvisor,’ she said to give herself time to think. She sighed. ‘And you don’t think there’s any way I can raise capital on my house? Equity release? Something?’