She wonders what will happen when Cosmo returns to Salcombe, and gives an involuntary little shiver. Hal turns to look at her.

‘Cold?’ he asks. ‘It wasn’t the best afternoon for a walk. How about some tea?’ He gets up, scattering newspapers. ‘Come on, Sam. You can help me carry.’

Cara sits quietly listening to George and Fliss chattering together on the rug at her feet whilst Henrietta and Jolyon talk in quiet voices on the sofa on the other side of the long low table, and Honey stretches out before the fire. How peaceful it is. This is what a real homecoming must be like. Returning to the people you love best, in the home you’ve known for ever. Suddenly the baby wakes and begins to cry, and the dynamic changes as Henrietta picks him up. Fliss is asking if she needs anything; George takes some of the toys to show Jolyon. Tea arrives and is set out on the low table. Cara is absorbed by the life around her. She can’t remember when she’s been so happy.

The next few days are filled with companionship; walks on the moor, trips with Sam to do outside recces of two flats in Dartmouth, and a visit to Dartington Hall, where she is introduced to Fliss’s younger sister, Susanna, and her delightful husband, Gus, who live in the village. As Cara works in the kitchen garden with Hal and Fliss, she wonders why she should feel so relaxed with these people she’s known for such a short time. They have a stability, a rootedness, that she’s never known in her own life, and at this time of loneliness and adjustment it’s very comforting.

‘We just wanted to say,’ Fliss says after lunch on Cara’s last day, ‘that you’re always welcome to stay here. Don’t let the pressure of finding somewhere to live get to you. We can imagine that it might get a bit cramped in Salcombe after a while, but we’ve got so much space here and we’re used to having people around.’

A north-westerly is buffeting The Keep’s strong walls, there’s a sudden clatter of rain, and Hal comes into the kitchen with Honey, brushing the water from his jacket, kicking off his boots. Sam follows him, getting Honey’s towel and rubbing her dry.

‘We didn’t quite make it,’ he says. ‘There’s a real old gale blowing up. I think I’ll light the fire in the hall.’

‘Good idea,’ says Fliss.