‘You’ve forgotten I’ve seen it. It’s perfect still.’

She smiled secretively.

‘Have you finished your crown?’

‘Yes.’

‘Let me see it on.’

She placed it gingerly on her head. She seemed suddenly so young, so innocent, in spite of everything.

‘Magnificent.’

‘I must show Freddie,’ she said.

For a moment I thought I’d misheard. ‘You mean wear it to his grave?’

She looked at me as if I’d gone mad. ‘He’s not dead. He’s only been gone a few weeks, and there’s no actual fighting at the moment.’

‘Where?’

‘Egypt.’

‘Sylvie – there was a fire. Freddie didn’t make it out.’

‘He’s not dead, Theo.’

‘We went to his funeral.’

She took another bite of the cold toast. ‘You must have dreamt it. He joined up, and they’ve posted him out there. He writes to me.’

My head felt fuzzy. ‘Do you have any of his letters?’

‘He told me to burn them after I’d finished reading them – sometimes he writes things he shouldn’t.’

‘What does he say?’

‘He talks about the war, when it’s going to happen. He wishes he was back here with us.’ She played with her crown. ‘He didn’t volunteer to go – they needed him.’

I tried to return her smile, but my face felt tight; his death had clearly pushed her over the edge. I looked down at the lawn, and for a moment I saw his limp body stretched out between us like an accusation.

We lapsed into silence. After a while, Noel came to the door and called to us. ‘Minnie’s had another accident, dear – shall I call the vet?’

‘No.’ Sylvie stood up. ‘She hates the vet. I’ll clean it up.’

‘I can do it – you just finish your breakfast.’

‘What’s happening with Minnie?’ I asked, when Noel had disappeared again.

‘She’s old.’ She pressed her hand against her stomach. ‘I can’t bear it, seeing her suffer.’

‘Poor darling.’

‘Life can be so cruel sometimes.’

I had nothing to say to that.

Before I left I found Noel mopping the floor in the corner of the bathroom. She pulled a sympathetic face at me. ‘She was in one of her odd moods, then?’

‘How can you tell?’

‘Your expression.’ She got out her cigarette case. ‘I don’t think she really believes it – it’s more that she’s trying to talk herself into it.’

I hunted in my pockets for a matchbook, then lit her cigarette for her. She took a long drag and closed her eyes to exhale, her face relaxing. I realised she was cleverer than I’d given her credit for – but then I supposed running Sylvie’s household would keep anyone on their toes.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ I said. ‘What did you hear about Kenya before you came out to work for Sylvie? Back home, I mean.’