I gave her a rather patronizing smile. “We are almost neighbors,” I said. “I’ve lived here since I was born. One knows what happens on estates that border our own.”

“I see.” Did I detect a slight hardening of her expression? “Our fees are not paltry,” she said, “but of course that should be of no concern to someone like yourself.”

“My uncle is not without his own funds,” I said, taking his hand in mine. “But we have to make sure this place is right for him.”

Granddad grinned inanely, as instructed.

“He has certain definite requirements,” I went on. “He likes morning sunlight, you see, and a good view, and plenty of lawns for strolling, and some good conversation with his fellow guests. So I wonder if we could be shown around and see some rooms?”

“We didn’t know you were coming.” She sounded slightly flustered. “We’re not prepared . . .”

“Oh, come now”—I was now giving a good imitation of my austere great-grandmother, Queen Victoria—“if your place is so substandard that it has to be prepared to be seen by an outside visitor, then it’s hardly a suitable spot for my great-uncle.”

“My lady, we adhere to the highest standards,” she said frostily. “It’s just that I don’t know which rooms are available for viewing. Some of our residents are easily startled by outsiders. Some can even be violent and I wouldn’t like you to witness anything unpleasant.”

“I think it is important that I see the place as it really is, don’t you? If I’m to trust you with my dear uncle, I have to know what I’m doing.”

“I see.” A ghost of a smile touched her lips but not her eyes. “Well, I suppose I can give you some idea of what we have to offer. As it happens we do have a couple of vacancies at present. If you’d please follow me.”

As she walked ahead I grabbed Granddad. “See if you can find a Maisie McPhee,” I whispered. He shot me an inquiring look.

Matron looked back. “Come along. This way,” she said briskly. She led us down a long, well-lit hallway. The doors on either side had small windows in them and nameplates on them. I tried to glance in each.

“So do you have many men of my uncle’s age?” I asked. “He is a very sociable chap. He’d like to be able to play chess and talk to other old codgers.”

She gave me a warning look, glancing back at Granddad, who was deliberately trailing. “Most of our residents are no longer able to play chess and chat. Are you sure your relative wouldn’t be happier in a residential facility for the elderly?”

“But he wanders,” I whispered. “He tries to escape all the time. The staff found him standing by the road, trying to hitchhike, wearing only his combinations.”