Katie was warmed by this. Sybil seemed in no doubt about them.

‘I’ll be perfectly all right. I just don’t want to disturb the people underneath – if he were to run up and down.’

‘Well, you’re above the Gudgeons, both of whom are fortunately rather deaf. You won’t see much of her – she’s an invalid. Tell you what, I’ve got a mouldy old rug somewhere in the back there, if you don’t mind it. That’d muffle things up a bit, wouldn’t it?’

On the way down again Sybil Routh showed her the bathroom at the back of the second floor, with a huge claw-footed bath. It was the best bathroom Katie had ever seen.

‘There’s a meter for the water – I know what you girls are like for baths; go easy on the lavatory flush – and no more than two squares of Izal at a time: the plumbing objects to it . . . Now, I’ll show you what’s what. That room – well, rooms – at the front, that’s the Gudgeons’.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. Katie had to strain to hear over Michael’s happy crooning. She had put him down and was having to hold on tight to his hand. ‘They’re a nice old couple, but very frail. She looks as if the wind would blow her down, and he’s quite devoted. Then there’s Mr Treace in the back room. He’ll be in any minute – works in Lloyds Bank – rather a dull fellow, I’m afraid, but of frugal habits, which is what we landladies like, of course! A modest bather. Now, I know you’ll need to bath the child . . . We’ll have to see what we can do.’ She led the way downstairs. Michael was wrapped up in the dog, playing with him along the hall.

‘The bottom floor is all mine. There’s a little parlour at the front, which I never really use and it’s cold as the grave in there. This room is where all life happens.’

She led the way along the lovely tiled hall and into a very large back room. Katie was aware immediately of moss-green walls beneath a picture rail, above which everything was creamy-white, and of a room crammed with intriguing things. At one end was a dining table and chairs and, beside it, a dark old sideboard on which rested a huge china soup-tureen and various silver jugs and salvers. There was a dresser, the top half of which had glass doors, crammed with leather-bound books, and beside it another set of deep shelves, which held a mixture of books and glass cases. In them Katie saw a variety of stuffed birds: pheasants and grouse and other game birds. Her eyes were drawn to the very top shelf, where she could see something with very big teeth.

‘Ah . . .’ Sybil saw where she was looking. ‘That is the Bengal tiger, or was once, poor fellow – skull of one.’ Its jaws were stretched wide open, the teeth curved like sabres. ‘It was my brother Anselm’s – he died in India, alas. And these others . . .’ A sweep of her hand took in the birds and various glass cases of coloured butterflies, which were attached to the wall by the door. ‘Those are Cuthbert’s: another brother, but he’s gorn orf, as they say, to Australia.’