‘We all do, they’re kept downstairs, in Mrs Piggott’s room.’

‘Maybe it’s the scuttle then,’ he said, and a moment later, ‘no, it’s not the scuttle, not the bucket. Could it be your bonnet?’

He was frowning so, he somehow knew I had the door handle under my cap, but how could he know? It’s just as the old Iremonger had said, they’re deep.

‘How long, Lucy Pennant, have you been in Heap House, for you don’t seem to know the rules?’

‘Since yesterday evening.’

‘And before yester evening you were somewhere else then?’

‘I’ve got to be somewhere all the time, haven’t I?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘Everyone’s in one place or another aren’t they?’

‘Yes they are.’

‘You’re never not anywhere.’

‘Yes, yes, steady on. It’s not you that’s got a bleeding ear. And please to remember that you are a servant and I am not. But to return to the conversation, there are so many somewheres, aren’t there? So many places altogether, but I, you see, I’ve only ever been here.’

‘There’s a lot of here, masses of it.’

‘Yes, it is big, I suppose, but I was wondering, Lucy Pennant, of that place that you were just yesterday. What was it like?’

‘Smaller.’

‘Oh was it, that’s interesting, and was there anything else about it at all?’

‘What do you want to know?’

‘Everything.’

‘That’s a lot then, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, well,’ he said, ‘if you wouldn’t mind. You could start now.’

‘And what about me? What do I get out of it?’

‘I don’t know. My not telling anyone that I was struck by a servant?’

‘Show me the house, I’m new here, I get lost. Show it me.’

‘Were you in London?’

‘I was.’

‘Do you know London?’

‘Course.’

‘Could you tell me about it?’

‘An exchange is it then? You’ll show me the house, and I’ll tell you everything about London?’

‘Oh yes, all right. Let’s start straight away, this is the Masters’ common room.’

‘I know that already. Tell me something else.’

‘I will. There are seven floors, well, eight in places. Six main staircases. I’m not certain how many back ones. Four dining halls, three long galleries. Many treasures here and there, great collections.’

‘Show me.’

‘Tell me,’ he asked, ‘what’s your birth object?’

‘A box of matches. Show me a collection.’

‘What sort of a box, big, small, how many matches inside?’

‘I don’t know, I didn’t see, there was tape around it which said “sealed for your convenience”. It’s got nothing to do with me really.’

‘A sealed box of matches.’

A bell sounded underneath and I knew I must hurry.

‘I should go now. We’ve made a deal, haven’t we, come to terms agreeable to both parties?’

‘Yes, indeed.’