‘My sister-in-law and those two well-meaning buffoons in there are quite wrong when they say that I need help at home.’ She shook her head in irritation. ‘Outside these walls the world is one noisy blur, busy, fast and a little scary, and that’s only in our village; heaven knows what it would be like if I had to venture further afield.’

‘That was how I felt about London,’ I managed to say in a gruff voice.

Betsy shuddered. ‘Ghastly. Anyway, the point is that inside the walls which surround my property, I feel safe, I know where the potholes in the yard are, I know how many steps lead to my bathroom or down to the garden. I can, with a bit of concentration, still work the TV remote and I know what food is in my cupboards, the mix-up with the custard notwithstanding.’

‘I can see that, Mrs Butterworth; your friends were trying to help, but I understand: you won’t require my services.’

‘No,’ she confirmed. ‘But it appears to me that you, young lady, are in need of a lucky break. And that it is, in fact, you who need mine. And do call me Betsy.’

I tried to laugh but it came out like a sort of yodel. I nodded instead.

‘So how about this? You come and live in The Stables, across the way, and in exchange for a wage and your accommodation, you carry out a few tasks around the vineyard.’

‘Really! That would be amazing!’ Without thinking, I gave Betsy a hug and ended up sobbing on to the shoulder of her blouse. I half expected her to pull away; so far she had struck me as a stiff-upper-lip sort of lady. Instead, she rubbed my back. ‘There, there,’ she said under her breath.

‘And The Stables …’ I looked across the yard to the building with a traditional stable door. ‘It is habitable in there?’

She gave a dry laugh. ‘Fair question. Yes; it’s nothing fancy, mind you.’

My heart thumped with relief. ‘You don’t know what a help this is.’

‘Yes, well, it would only be for six months,’ she said, with a return to her brusque manner. She produced a white handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to me. ‘Until after the harvest and then I’m going to consider my options. I can’t afford to pay you a fortune, but I’ll have a word with the accountant.’

‘That’s fine. More than fine.’ At this point, I’d have snapped her hand off just for a fortnight’s lodging. ‘What sort of tasks did you have in mind?’