When she could drag her mind away from how wonderful Leo was she forced herself to think about whether she should seriously consider downsizing, giving up her B & B and releasing some capital for her children. Of course it was the sensible thing to do. It was now that Martin and Helena needed money, not in thirty years’ time when she was dead. And if Fairacres was worth what Leo said it was, she could buy a nice little cottage and Helena would have enough to buy a studio, and Martin and Cressida could buy something a bit bigger.

What she was certain of was that she was too young to live in a granny annexe. She didn’t even like the expression! While she loved being a grandmother and looked forward to being one again (although Martin and Cressida were convinced one child was enough), she hated all the names given by society to grandmothers. She found them patronising.

And could she give up her B & B just now? It was extremely hard work, especially when you went to the pains she went to, to make everything as perfect as it could be. But give it up? Probably not.

She sighed and turned her pillow over again and put some more lavender oil on it. Then she turned on the radio and turned it off again. She needed to work out what was happening with her daughter.

But at least Helena seemed perky in herself, which was lovely. Although when Helena had rung to say thank you for lunch and Gilly had asked about Jago, Helena hadn’t given anything away. She’d just said, ‘Oh he’s fine! Still going on about your cooking!’

The answer Gilly had been looking for was ‘I think I’m in love!’ and then maybe she could have admitted that perhaps she was too.

She finally drifted off trying to work out if Jago was the one for Helena. The fact that her ‘I’m staying single’ daughter was even going out with someone was surely a bonus. She was still arguing with herself about why she felt Helena needed a man when sleep claimed her.

A few mornings later she was waiting for William, her accountant, to collect his old ladies. They’d been to their party and come back, later than planned, the previous evening, and, Gilly hoped, had a good night’s sleep. Gilly picked up the tray of tea and coffee she was serving them while they waited and took it through to the conservatory. William’s aunts had been hugely appreciative guests and she had loved having them.

‘Darling!’ said the lead aunt, whose name was Daphne and who set the tone for the party. ‘You are so kind! We are such demanding old biddies with our various breakfast requirements and yet you never hesitated to cater to our whims, however unreasonable! Even when Doris and the others had to leave so early.’