And then everything stopped as we entered, and everyone turned to cheer us, clapping their hands and stamping their feet, and basically going out of their minds just at the sight of us. The sheer volume and sentiment was so overwhelming, I practically blushed. I nodded stiffly, smiled, and waved tentatively. Molly smiled sweetly and basked in it all. Molly had never been bashful in her entire life.

We made our way into the ballroom, and everyone went straight back to dancing and drinking and eating. We’ve always been a very pragmatic family. The Matriarch had wanted Molly and me to be the guests of honour, with speeches and presentations and the like, but I had put my foot down. This was a celebration by the family, of the family. We all did our part. We all did our duty.

Molly and I wandered along a buffet table, trying a little of this and a little of that. Most of the food on display was the usual party nibbles, family style. Molly loved the pâté-stuffed baby mice on cocktail sticks, and I was quite taken with the baby octopus stuffed with caviar. Then there was lemming mousse, deviled brains in a brimstone sauce, and any amount of roast swan. We don’t like the lake to get overcrowded. Her Majesty the Queen had given us special dispensation to eat swan. As if we cared.

I was still bone tired, despite many hours of deep and dreamless sleep, and even Molly lacked some of her usual sparkle. So we just strolled around, saying hi to people and shaking hands, and allowing ourselves to be clapped on the shoulder, which actually gets quite painful after a while, and just generally let everyone tell us how marvellous we were. Familiar faces popped up here and there. The librarians William and Rafe nodded briefly to us in passing, intent on devouring everything on the buffet tables that didn’t actually get up from its plate and run away. Harry and Roger sailed past, dancing together to the strains of a Strauss waltz, and very dashing they looked too. Young Freddie Drood was dancing with the Matriarch, the pair of them sailing smoothly and gracefully across the floor, and for just for a moment I caught a glimpse of the magnificent woman Martha must have been in her prime.

Callan came limping over to join us, with a large drink in one hand and an even larger drumstick in the other. “Hi there! Welcome back! What the hell did you think you were doing, going off to save the world without me? I woke up in a hospital bed and had to fight my way out with a steel bedpan and a walking stick. Only to find you were already gone! I always miss out on the good stuff . . .”

“Maybe next time,” Molly said kindly. “Did you see Janissary Jane in the infirmary?”