The triplets were polite enough to take a sample of Nomato, promising to share on social media if they liked it. Yasmin was able to find common ground with Kate when it turned out she made biodegradable dog beds, and I found a moment to discreetly speak to the boys about their tattoos. That led to a horribly disturbing internet search to confirm my point, but by the time Kylo had stopped sobbing, the other two had already managed to pick off most of the Ks, which it turned out were only temporary stick-ons due to their needle phobia.

‘No wonder that picture got only fifteen likes,’ Kyron said, clutching his cheeks in dismay.

‘Yeah, and that explains some of the DMs we got afterwards,’ Kyle agreed.

‘Thanks, Ollie. Our first meeting and you’ve already saved our brand!’ Kylo added.

‘And we got to meet Irene,’ Kyle said, before showing her that the pictures they’d steamrollered her into appearing in earlier had already got hundreds of likes and dozens of comments. ‘You’ve got almost as many fans as us already!’

‘We should totally set you up with your own account,’ Kyron squealed.

When I showed Joan after picking her up from the holiday club, #IreneTheLibraryLady already had over a thousand followers.

‘This world is crazy,’ she pronounced. ‘That’s why I prefer books, because they make more sense.’

I eyed her current read, about a gang of chameleon people who go back in time to save the dinosaurs, and was inclined to agree.

That evening we were in for an absolute treat. Ginger, who owned Hatherstone Hall, brought round a three-course dinner that if possible rivalled the one I’d eaten when Sam had gatecrashed my dinner for one.

Joan didn’t agree. ‘That looks weird. And there’s bits of mushroom. I hate mushrooms.’ She peered into each foil container in turn and sniffed. ‘I might try the pudding.’

I stuck some fish fingers in the oven and dashed next door.

‘Yes?’ Ebenezer automatically glanced at my hands, no doubt expecting to find them bearing food.

‘Hi, how are you, Ebenezer?’ I asked, deliberately mentioning his friendly nickname with a smile that dared him to tell me it was none of my business.

‘Been better. Been worse,’ he growled. ‘Did you want something, other than forcing me out of my chair after I’ve spent all afternoon pruning our roses.’

‘Our roses?’

He grunted. ‘The big thorny flowers that climb up the side fence.’

I said nothing. He knew what I meant.

‘I’ve got a three-course dinner from Hatherstone Hall keeping warm in my top oven. Joan is opting for fish fingers and chips.’

‘Sensible of her.’

‘It’s far too nice to eat alone.’

‘That’s a shame.’

‘Dinner will be served at the outside table in ten minutes. There’s also a very expensive bottle of wine.’