Angus came downstairs in time to join Nell for a late lunch, only he wanted what hotels called ‘a full English breakfast’: bacon, sausages, eggs, fried tomatoes, hash browns and mushrooms.

‘Can do, except for the mushrooms,’ she said. ‘Sit down and I’ll make you a mug of tea, then you can listen to my nacky idea.’

‘Nacky?’ he queried. ‘Is that a real word?’

‘It is to me. My mother used to say it.’ She put the mug in front of him and got out the food.

After he’d taken two or three mouthfuls of tea, he prompted, ‘Go on. Tell me about your nacky idea.’

She explained about setting up an artists’ colony in Saffron Lane and his face lit up.

‘Brill!’ He shovelled more food into his mouth, murmuring his approval of it.

‘Is that all you can say: “brill”?’

‘It’s all I need to say. I’m with you entirely and it’s a brilliant idea.’ He studied her face. ‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’

‘Yes. I’ve found some documents from World War II. Apparently the War Office took over the whole of Saffron Lane early in the war and housed some obscure unit there. They simply turned the tenants out and took over the houses. They didn’t even pay rent, nor did they ever reveal what had been going on there. And they didn’t hand it back to your family for several decades.’

‘Well, it was total war, you know, on the home front as well as on the fighting fronts. Everyone had to make sacrifices; everyone had to contribute.’

‘I’m amazed when I think what people went through, how much of their personal life they had to give up.’

‘We have some books about what went on locally if you want to find out more.’ He eyed her again. ‘Go on. From the look on your face, there’s something else, isn’t there?’

‘Yes. The War Office had planned to take over the big house as well, but decided it was too dilapidated to be worth saving. That seems strange because you said the place hadn’t been touched for decades when you and Joanna moved in. Was it really so dilapidated?’

‘Not at all. Just horrendously old-fashioned. The most urgent needs were rewiring and extending or renewing the plumbing. Luckily, I have my electrician’s ticket so I could do the rewiring once someone more experienced than me had helped to draw up an overall plan.’

There was tinkling laughter nearby and she looked at Angus but he didn’t seem to notice anything.

‘Why do you think the house seemed dilapidated?’ a woman asked, sounding amused.

‘You don’t suppose the ghosts made the house seem worse than it was, do you? So that it’d be left alone.’

He gave her a puzzled glance. ‘What made you think of that? Could they do it?’

Once again she seemed to be the only one hearing the women’s voices. ‘We can do what is needed to save Dennings. We all lived here at one time or another and care about our old home.’