“Yes, she did,” Emma said with a smile, as they heard the front door open and then close hard. A moment later, his mother walked into the kitchen. She was an elegant woman with impeccably groomed white hair, wearing a black velvet dress and a fur coat. She smiled as soon as she saw Emma, and then looked embarrassed.

“Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t know you invited a friend,” she said to Max. “Oh my God, you’ve given her that awful soup, and Mr. Jarvis’s nasty sausages.”

“The scones were delicious,” Emma said, feeling like an intruder, but Lady Pommery was so warm and welcoming, and Max had been so kind, that she enjoyed being there, even though she was an uninvited guest.

“This is Emma Jones,” Max introduced her to his mother, “a dear friend of Pru’s. They were roommates at the base and flew together. She took the train all the way up here to bring you something very special. I left it in the drawing room for you. It’s Pru’s journal.” They were both bowled over that Emma had brought it herself, and gone to so much trouble to do it.

“It didn’t seem right to just send it by post,” Emma explained.

“What an incredibly nice thing to do. Where are you staying?” Lady Pommery asked her.

“I’m not. I’m going to take the train back tonight.”

“You can’t possibly. I won’t hear of it. On Christmas Eve? You have to at least spend the night. We have plenty of room. The entire third floor is full of children, and they’ll wake you at dawn tomorrow, but the second floor is quite civilized. You must spend the night. We’ll be devastated if you don’t.” She went to find the package then, sat down in the drawing room and opened it, and they joined her a few minutes later, after Max put their dishes in the sink. Lord Pommery had settled into his favorite chair by the fire and had lit a pipe. He stood up to greet Emma politely, they shook hands, and he sat down again. Lady Pommery was already reading the first pages of the journal, and she looked up with a smile and damp eyes when Max and Emma walked in, then was engrossed in it again.

“What a dear girl you are to bring this to me. Are you on duty tomorrow? I hope not, since it’s Christmas.”

“No, I’m not,” Emma answered.

“Then you must spend the night. I won’t hear of your going back on some dreadful train tonight. You’ll get sick.”

“I really shouldn’t.” Emma hesitated.