He pulls on his jacket and looks around him. The garden room is almost unchanged since his grandmother’s time: the big deal table with small pots of plants needing attention; the small sink with a cold tap plumbed in by Fox, who also built in shelves to hold reference books, jars containing labels, seed packets and spools of string. Hal is comforted by the sense of continuity, grateful for the small unexpected joys that reveal themselves, and he goes out to move logs.

Fliss puts the mugs into the dishwasher, washes out the cafetière, and mentally reviews the options for lunch. Hal’s right about the ghosts. Some days they seem more than usually present all around her: benign, comforting, bringing so many memories. Here, in this kitchen, so many dramas have been played out under the watchful eyes of Ellen, the housekeeper, who nurtured and loved them all: tutting when Fox came in from his outdoor labours without removing his boots; rolling her eyes when Kit, Hal’s twin sister, sat in the dog basket with whichever dog was in residence. Ellen’s comment, always muttered just below her breath, ‘Whatever next, I wonder’, had become a catchphrase with them all.

The dog basket is still there, unoccupied except for its clean rug waiting for the next occupant. Honey, a golden Labrador, is needing a home since her elderly owner died. She’s well trained, wonderful with children, the rescue lady tells them, but the younger members of the family are too busy to be able to look after her so she has to be rehomed. Fliss thinks that Honey sounds ideal and she’s hoping that she’ll approve of The Keep. The whole Chadwick family, children and grandchildren, are waiting with expectation.

Fliss can hear Hal bringing the logs into the hall ready for the winter ahead, piling them into the inglenook. She’s glad that Sam will be with them until after Christmas. She just wishes she knew what is behind his preoccupation. Perhaps he will talk to Max about it, or even to Cara. He seems to have taken to Cara, to be enjoying this new role of chauffeur and guide. Fliss glances at her watch and sees that it’s nearly lunchtime, and she has an idea. Hal has nearly finished piling up the logs and he glances round as she comes into the hall, giving a groan as he straightens up.

‘I should have left this for Sam,’ he remarks. ‘I must be a masochist.’

‘Keeps you fit,’ she says. ‘You need the exercise. But I’ve had an idea. Why don’t we go to The Cott for lunch?’

‘Now you’re talking,’ he says appreciatively. ‘Give me a few minutes to tidy up and I’ll be with you.’

‘As long as we’re back by three for Honey,’ she reminds him.

‘And is there Honey still for tea?’ he murmurs, and she laughs at him.