‘Hiya,’ Will says with a smile as he opens the door, and I’m embarrassed to admit that I feel a little nervous all of a sudden. His expression is giving nothing away as he steps aside to let me in, which doesn’t help. Has he noticed the difference? If he has, does he like what he sees? Why does that suddenly seem to matter to me? I can feel myself going into full-on overthinking mode as Jonathan comes out of the kitchen to greet me.

‘Tilly!’ he booms enthusiastically. ‘You’re just in time. We’re having a simple chicken roast today, is that all right?’

‘More than all right,’ I tell him. ‘How are you?’

‘Good. Did Will tell you about my day at flying club yesterday?’

‘No. He said you’d enjoyed it last week and you were going again.’

‘Bernard’s taken Dad under his wing,’ Will tells me, and I’m relieved to see he seems completely back to his usual relaxed self. ‘Dad’s started practising with a battery-powered helicopter, and rumour has it that the fearsome Audrey might be airborne within the month, weather permitting.’

‘Aren’t all these things battery powered?’ I ask.

‘Oh, no,’ Jonathan explains. ‘Audrey is powered by a miniature jet engine. That’s why I have to be so careful with her and why I want to get lots of practice in before I try to fly her. Mess it up with a small battery-powered helicopter and you learn a valuable lesson. Mess it up with Audrey and it’s both expensive and potentially dangerous.’

‘Thinking of which, have you had any luck tracking down the real Audrey?’ I ask Will once Jonathan has disappeared into the kitchen to put the final touches to lunch.

‘I haven’t tried,’ he replies, looking puzzled. ‘Why?’

‘No reason. I just got the impression, last time she was mentioned, that you were going to look for her, that’s all.’

‘I’m not sure I’d know where to start,’ he admits. ‘That kind of thing isn’t really my area of expertise.’

‘I’d start by googling Audrey Carmichael and see where it takes you.’

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

I’m a little surprised by Will’s lack of enthusiasm for a simple task that I’m pretty sure was his idea, but I’m more concerned by the tension that has suddenly reappeared in his face. Whatever’s up with him has evidently not resolved itself after all, and my heart sinks a little. Before I have a chance to dig any deeper though, Jonathan calls us to the table, where his ‘simple’ chicken proves to be anything but. As well as the gravy, crispy roast potatoes and vegetables, there’s bread sauce, stuffing and pigs in blankets.