‘There you are,’ Mum said, easing through the throng in the hall. ‘You missed a smashing concert.’ She joined Lou to look up at the portrait beneath the stairs. ‘I’ve always liked that painting. He’s very handsome, don’t you think? With kind eyes.’

Lou pressed the book-shaped bulge in the pocket of her parka as the crowd parted, making way for a wheelchair.

Will brought the chair to a stop. ‘Hello again, Louisa. We wanted to catch you before you leave. This must be your mum. It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs Arnold.’ Will held out his hand. ‘I’m William Morrison, and this is my great-grandfather, Bert.’

Not used to shaking hands, Lou’s mum blushed as she took Will’s hand. ‘Are you friends of Lou’s?’ she asked, sounding a tad confused.

Bertie lifted his chin from his chest. ‘Louisa is a tremendous friend to us. And to Hill House.’

‘Lou’s been helping with …’ Will paused as though working out how to phrase his words. ‘With a long-term regeneration programme of Hill House.’

‘Has she now?’ Mum slipped her arm through Lou’s. ‘Well, our Lou has always loved history.’

Bertie’s eyes came to rest on Lou. ‘Louisa still doesn’t fully appreciate what she’s done for us. The help she has given.’

‘That’s my Lou all over,’ Mum said, squeezing Lou’s arm. ‘She’s always hiding her light under a bushel. And I’m sorry, gentlemen. You’ll have to excuse her today. She’s a bit under the weather. She goes quiet when she’s poorly. Always has, even when she was a little girl.’

Bertie’s blanket fell from his knees. Lou’s mum knelt to collect it from the floor. As she tucked it around Bertie’s lap, checking that he was ok, Will took a step closer to Lou. ‘You’ll be all right, I promise,’ he said, his quiet words lost to anybody but her. ‘You’ll always have friends at Hill House. And you’ve got my number. Phone me. Anytime. I’ll always be there for you, Lou.’ He ran his fingers through his fringe and made to turn away. Lou stopped him.

‘Will, I just want to thank you,’ she whispered. ‘For everything.’

‘It’s us that should be thanking you. Perhaps in the New Year, you’ll let me take you for that meal. You know, we could catch up.’

‘I’d like that. But it’ll be my treat.’

Will smiled. ‘I know better now than to argue with you, Louisa Arnold.’

He took her hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze before taking the handles of the wheelchair. Bertie and Will said their goodbyes, Will turning the wheelchair in the direction of the ballroom.

‘They were nice, weren’t they?’ Mum said. ‘And you’re a dark horse. I had no idea you were helping here. What is it, some kind of volunteering project?’

Lou nodded and moved in closer to her mum.

‘You’re still not right, are you? Come on, then, let’s get you home. I’ll make you a nice hot chocolate. If you’re good, I might even let you have one of the gingerbread men I made yesterday. How does that sound?’