Across the yard from the house were what looked like converted stables and finally, partially obstructed by several vehicles including a Land Rover and a quadbike, was a long single-storey building. This was much newer and more industrial-looking, with wide double doors standing open. Inside I could just make out some sort of stainless-steel construction and outside it was a forklift truck next to some pallets of bottles. The winery, I presumed.

A lean man with gingery hair and long legs and dressed in a tracksuit emerged from this last building and marched towards me, beckoning me forward with both hands like an air traffic controller. As I got closer, he started to wave me to the right, indicating I should park in the space next to the quadbike. I could probably have managed that by myself, I thought, but I gave him a thumbs-up to show I understood his instruction. At a guess, this was Roger.

A second man, shorter, rounder and balder than the first, appeared and gave me a cheery wave. He walked with a slight shuffle towards my van as I climbed out.

‘Miss Allbright?’

‘That’s me. Call me Lottie, please.’

He held out his hand. ‘Godfrey Hallam.’

‘It’s a beautiful place you have here, Godfrey,’ I said, shaking his warm pudgy hand.

‘It’s not his,’ said the first man, smoothing his hair into place before extending his hand in greeting. ‘Nor mine. I’m Roger Cooper, by the way; we spoke on the phone.’

Roger had a vice-like grip and I was glad when he released my hand.

‘I spoke to you too,’ said Godfrey, raising a hand timidly.

‘I must say, I had my reservations when I read your email,’ Roger said, casting an eye approvingly over my outfit. ‘Given your age and, ahem, sex.’

‘Oh?’ I regarded him coolly, daring him to make a sexist remark.

‘And I apologize for jumping to conclusions; you look very strong and capable.’ He smiled at me as if he’d just paid me the greatest compliment.

‘Thanks,’ I said, inclining my head. ‘I believe I am.’

Given the warmth of the sun today, I’d have preferred to be wearing a summer dress, but it would have done me no good given the practical nature of the job. So I’d opted for some heavy-duty canvas trousers I used to wear when I worked with Dad, a white polo shirt and my steel-capped boots, which I had to wear with thick socks. I reckoned it was about ninety degrees inside those boots right now. I looked down, half expecting steam to be coming out of them. So I might not look feminine and smart, but ‘strong and capable’ would probably win me more Brownie points.

‘Come along, let’s go and get settled into the winery before the ladies arrive.’