‘Weekdays are for work, Mr Hailey,’ Cat persisted. ‘Saturdays and Sundays are for true devotion.’

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ he said with a wink, taking an exaggerated gulp of his drink and loading his top lip with foam. ‘But seriously,’ he said, ‘what do you all do on the weekends for fun?’

‘This,’ said Ruth, gesturing about her, eyebrows raised imperiously as if to ask, is this not enough? She lifted her gin and tonic. ‘And also, this.’

We launched into another round of ‘Cheers!’ and Ben pulled his phone from his pocket to take a picture of us, drinks raised, stretching an arm so he could be in the frame too.

‘I’ll just post this to Instagram,’ he pantomimed, prodding exaggeratedly at the screen. Then, ‘Oh, wait…’ He tossed the phone to the table and pretended to sulk. We eye-rolled at his joke.

‘Come on, guys!’ It was Ben’s turn to slap the table. ‘Let’s get that petition going for a telephone mast. Let’s drag Lark kicking and screaming towards the shores of the twenty-first century! The revolution starts here!’

We shook our heads slowly.

‘Why come to Lark,’ asked Ruth, skewering him with logic, ‘if you only want what you left behind?’

He shrugged.

‘I mean, what did you leave behind?’ she continued, not letting him answer. ‘Something messy, no doubt, or painful or boring or difficult.’ With each adjective her voice became more impassioned and Ben’s smile became weaker. I could have pointed out that she was using Miriam Calder’s line of reasoning to drive home her point, but Ruth would likely have poured gin over my head. ‘Everyone comes here to escape something,’ she said. In the silence that followed, we awkwardly sipped our drinks. ‘Am I right?’ she asked.

Again, Ben shrugged.

‘Listen,’ said Cat, shooting Ruth a withering look, ‘I grew up on the mainland and I got my degree there. I know it can’t compare. I’m telling you, I’ve never felt closer to God than when I’m on Lark.’

‘Oh!’ Ruth swallowed her mouthful of drink quickly, eager to join in the fervour. ‘Have you seen a sunset from the west coast, yet?’

Ben shook his head. Ruth slammed down her glass in disbelief.

‘No? You have to! You must! Climb up to the Big House, head into the gardens round the back, don’t let the Earl see you and…’ Ruth’s eyes slid to me. She grinned. ‘Leah will show you.’

‘I’ll tell you what, coycrock,’ said Cat, rescuing us both from Ruth’s clutches. ‘I’ll cook for us next weekend, how’s that for something to do?’

Ben leapt on this. ‘Yes! Then you can do the weekend after, Leah, and I’ll do the weekend after that and we’ll all score one another!’

‘What?’ Ruth spoke our confusion.