‘I’m afraid that it rather sounds as though he has,’ Mrs Hart said.

Charlotte left Edward’s side and ran part of the way down the drive. She spun around and ran back, holding her hat in place. ‘He’s here! I can see him. He’s coming!’ she yelled and pointed as though she had just glimpsed the circus arriving in town.

Lou joined the others to watch a motorcycle manoeuvre through the open gates and speed up the drive. With its chains and innards exposed in a green metal frame, the machine looked more like a souped-up pushbike than any motorcycle she had ever seen. It slid on the gravel – causing Lady Mandeville to gasp – before coming to a sudden stop, the back-tyre skidding in the snow. Without waiting for the engine to cut out completely, Charlotte squealed and ran to the rider who was dressed in a long leather coat with a dark fur-trimmed collar. He dismounted and whisked Charlotte off her feet, spinning her around. When he deposited her back on the ground, he whipped off his flying helmet and goggles to reveal a grimy face, except for two circles of clean flesh around his eyes, making him look like a panda in reverse. He smiled at the assembled crowd. Lou would have recognised those piercing blue eyes anywhere.

‘Thomas,’ Lady Mandeville said, holding out her hands. Dispensing with formality, her son threw his arms around her and kissed her on both cheeks. She stepped away, blushing, batting the air in front of her face.

‘Mother,’ Captain Mandeville said, ruffling his hair. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes.’

‘And you are filthy and so very cold,’ Lady Mandeville said. Looking past her son, she frowned at the motorcycle. ‘Why do you persist in riding that thing when I have made my feelings clear? It is so dangerous.’

Captain Mandeville patted the saddle of the motorcycle. ‘The old girl hasn’t let me down yet. She was even as good as gold when we went for a spin around the track at Brooklands last summer. Anyway, it was a mere sixty-miles from London this morning, and I only came a cropper on the icy country lanes outside Bletchley, once. Perhaps twice.’

‘Oh, Thomas!’ Lady Mandeville said, putting her hand to her chest. ‘You will send me to an early grave. And where is your father?’

‘I left him at his club. He’s planning on catching the 12.30 from Euston, but I wanted to surprise you all by arriving early.’

‘You have certainly done that. We’re nowhere near ready.’

‘For what? As long as there’s a bed to rest my head on and a fire to warm my feet by, I’ll be happy.’

‘You are not in barracks now, Thomas.’ Lady Mandeville gently reprimanded. ‘You must allow your poor mother to indulge herself and spoil you. For the short time you intend to stay with us, at least –’

‘Mother …’

‘All right, I know, I mustn’t take on so.’