‘Yes. As you quite rightly state, my company would be far below the entertainment level that Jack Coulsdon-Hart is used to courting and, as you say, he would want to set up his own accommodation swiftly. In which case, it’s probably best if we skip the whole “he can stay here” step entirely and just go straight to the bit where he buys or rents his own place. Sound good? Great. I’m glad that’s all settled. Are you done with that?’ I grabbed the empty cup and popped it in the dishwasher before sweeping biscuit detritus from the counter with the side of my hand.

Felix looked at his watch then bellowed out into the garden for the kids to come in as it was time to go home.

‘They can stay if they want.’

‘They can, but poor, homeless Jack can’t? That’s not very charitable of you.’

I pulled a face. ‘It’s not the same thing and you know it. Family is different. Also, he’s very far from poor.’

‘You know he never touches his family’s money. As for the rest, Jack is like family to me. He’s the children’s godfather, for a start.’

‘I know that, but he’s not family to me.’

‘Kids. Home. Now!’ he yelled again when no small people appeared in response to the first holler.

‘Good job my nearest neighbours are sheep.’

Felix did a loud ‘baaaaaa’ and got a few replies in return. ‘Seriously? I have more luck getting sheep to take notice of me than my own offspring.’

‘You don’t know what the sheep said. It might have been “bugger off” for all you know.’

‘Always possible. Look, if you find my – there you are! I thought you’d disappeared into the jungle undergrowth for good!’ my brother said, ruffling Freddy’s hair and picking a twig from his daughter’s.

‘It’s not that bad out there!’ I said, feeling somewhat forced to defend my garden.

‘Right.’

‘It’s not!’ I protested. ‘It’s natural. I’m… rewilding. It’s all the rage, you know.’

Felix sniffed the air. ‘I guess they must be muck spreading at one of those farms nearby.’ His gaze slid from the garden to me, one brow slightly quirked.

Freddy gave several sniffs, each one bigger than the last. ‘I can’t smell anything.’

‘Maybe the wind changed, mate. Come on, let’s get you home and in the bath. Both of you look like you could audition for Lord of the Flies.’

‘What’s that?’

‘A book that you’re too young to read just now,’ I stated, wrangling my nephew into a coat that had been discarded as he worked up a head of steam charging around the garden.

‘Well, don’t say that!’ my brother huffed. ‘Now he’ll definitely want to read it.’

‘Are there fairies in it?’ Ruby asked.

‘No, sweetheart. Definitely no fairies.’

‘Good!’ Freddy said.