‘Oh, yes. I call it “The Way To Go”.’ Stacy produced the ping-pong ball, put it on the starting dish and wound up the mechanism. Then she pressed the little lever that sent the ball on its trip round the system.

Nell chuckled. ‘It’s delightful. Steam punk, isn’t it, that style?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re younger than I’d expected.’ It was out before she could stop herself.

‘Does that matter?’

‘Oh, no. Age isn’t important. It’s talent we’re looking for and a friendly personality to deal with people visiting the village. If your other creations are as delightfully quirky as this one, and the photo of the little animal you sent certainly was, you’ve got a lot to share with the world. Ah, here’s Angus. Watch this, darling.’

When she gestured, Stacy set it going again and Angus watched in patent delight, asking for it to be run again.

After that the three of them chatted for a while and Stacy told them something about herself, breaking off when she heard the sound of a car outside.

Nell stood up. ‘I’ll get the door. I forgot to tell you because we started playing with your piece that the next person overlaps your visit a bit. I hope you don’t mind, Stacy. Only she has to move house and if she’s going to come here, she needs to know quickly.’

‘I don’t mind sharing time with her. Why should I? It’s always nice to meet another artist.’ As Nell went to let the newcomer in, Stacy turned to smile at Angus, who was setting off her steam punk machine again.

He looked at her guiltily. ‘I’m a child at heart. I couldn’t resist it. How much do you want for it? I have to have it.’

She was so surprised she couldn’t speak for a moment or two. ‘I, um, haven’t even thought of a price. I’ve only just finished it, you see.’

‘Well, when you’ve decided, give me first refusal.’

‘Oh, right. Would two hundred pounds be too much?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Too little, I should think. Look at all the work that’s gone into it. If it’s all right with you, I’ll get a friend who has a gallery to value it and we’ll go by his judgement. I guarantee it’ll be more than two hundred pounds.’

Which left her totally speechless, able only to nod.

The driver helped Elise out of the front seat of the car. It had seemed unfriendly to sit alone in the back when they were chatting so animatedly and they’d stopped after a few miles so that she could move into the front passenger seat.

‘I’ll carry your painting inside, Elise.’

‘Thanks, Amy. It’s quite heavy, but it’s one of my favourites.’ Victor had left her the bluebells painting in his will, to her great delight. And she wasn’t going to sell it to anyone else unless she was starving and desperate to buy food and paints. Though if anyone loved it as much as she did, she’d be torn about whether to let them have it. She greatly enjoyed giving people pleasure.