‘Oh, so Denzel can cook a buffet for ten people, sort rooms for nine, clean up, and serve drinks as well as take care of four children?’ She threw Baxter a pointed look. ‘He’s more than capable, but that’s pushing it.’

‘Well, you boys have done an excellent job.’ Baxter nodded. ‘If you ever need a reference, let me know.’

The drinks were followed by platefuls of finger food deposited on a long sideboard. Baxter took a seat in the chair beside it, giving Henry and me a chance to catch our breath and wonder what on earth was going on.

The library was, as its name suggested, lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on three sides, one of which was interrupted by two full-length windows. The fourth wall contained the fireplace and two doors, including the one leading back into the hallway. Aside from the piano, the rest of the room contained various seating flanked by end tables and the odd footstool. Unsurprisingly, it looked as though the Christmas tornado had also swept through. Garlands criss-crossed the ceiling and framed the fireplace, which also hosted a row of giant stockings. Red and gold floral decorations graced the larger tables, and dotted about were several life-sized geese wearing Christmas hats and scarves while glaring ominously at us through their monocles.

‘Do you know anyone here apart from Summer?’ Henry asked, after carefully selecting a plateful of food and coming to sit back down.

I nodded. ‘That’s Lincoln Kim. We’ve met a few times. He’s on one of the local ITV news teams. The other woman is Cynthia something-or-other. I’ve done some training with her at the Met Office. And, I might be mistaken but isn’t that bloke from Love Rivals? Jordan Jones?’

‘I wouldn’t know.’ The corners of Henry’s mouth quirked down in distaste.

‘I don’t watch it either, but he did an interview with us about a charity endurance event last year. I have no idea who the other three are.’

We sat and observed while we ate. One of the men was making nervous small talk with Cynthia. Three others seemed to be playing a game of conversational one-upmanship, braying at each other’s jokes as their gesticulating grew more vigorous. Jordan Jones and Summer were both sitting on a sofa directly opposite Baxter, straining forwards as they nodded and smiled and flicked their hair about.

‘Are interviews for TV jobs always like this?’ Henry asked, as the boys brought in more drinks and the volume of chatter subsequently increased.