“Then I think you’re going to love this one. It’s mostly single-story, for the carriages to drive in and out of once upon a time, with a clock tower at the center and beautiful arched windows along the front of each wing. We can take a look at it after, if you like. It’s not accessible from this plot; we’ll have to go back to the main road and in through the old estate gates about a hundred yards farther on. The manor burned down about ten years ago and was never rebuilt, so there are just open fields behind it that lead onto the moor.” Picking up a laptop from the small trestle table she was using as a desk, Andee said, “I’ve got some photographs of it here somewhere, but before we get to it we probably ought to focus on this place. I can show you the sort of thing I have in mind because the developer wants it to be similar to another show home we did together last year. Which isn’t to say I’m not open to new ideas, if you have any.”

“Is the developer someone you work with often?” Claudia asked, taking out her iPad ready to present her own portfolio.

“And also live with.” Andee’s smile was so infectious it made Claudia break into one of her own.

As they swapped devices Claudia said chattily, “Are you from this area?”

“Indeed I am. Graeme, my partner, isn’t, but he’s been here so long he might as well be. And you?”

Claudia felt herself flush. Although she’d expected to be asked about her life before Kesterly-on-Sea, she already didn’t want to deceive this woman. “Oh, I—I’m from London,” she said awkwardly, and opening up Andee’s show-home file on the laptop she began to scrutinize what had been done before.

Minutes later she was feeling almost childishly proud as Andee swiped through the shots of her work on the iPad, murmuring words like, “Wow,” “Amazing,” “Stunning,” and “So original.”

Realizing she might be appearing too interested in her own designs, Claudia continued scrolling through Andee’s photographs, but she hadn’t gotten far before Andee said, “Put that down. What you have here is so much more . . . sophisticated, different, but please don’t ever tell Cassie I said that. She’s who usually does the drapes and soft furnishings for me. She’s gone to take care of her invalided father, by the way, and isn’t expecting to be back anytime soon. Did you do all the cushions and throws in these shots?”

Claudia nodded.

“And the bedspreads?”

Claudia nodded again. “Making things is my passion,” she said, trying to sound modest, but not sure she’d succeeded.