Uncle Eb and Herr Schmale, or ‘Freddie’ as he insisted on being called, seemed to hit it off very well. He told them, as they all stood in the office, that he had been in London visiting a fellow publisher, and had taken the opportunity to enjoy a holiday on the south coast.

‘But ven I was valking the streets in London, I saw such beautiful jewels.’ He pronounced it ‘chewels’. ‘Freddie’ seemed a man of boundless enthusiasm. ‘And I say to myself, only such fine jewels are sufficient for the finest lady of my life. So I am asking where zese things of loveliness are made. And my cousin, Klaus, whom I mentioned – Klaus von Titz?’

They all nodded with studied solemnity.

‘He has already been saying to me that he would like to have making some lovely portrait of his daughters. He is, you see, twenty years my senior. Zo, I thought – I will come to ze horse’s, er . . .’

‘Mouth?’ Aunt Hatt suggested.

‘Just so!’ Herr Schmale bowed, beaming with infectious enthusiasm. ‘It is my pleasure to see how sings are made – not only to buy coldly from a shop.’

‘Well,’ Uncle Eb said, clearly encouraged by the prospect of a handsome order from their visitor. ‘You’d better come and see.’

The two of them disappeared for the afternoon and Margaret assumed that that was the last she would see of the German visitor. But the two men had got along so well that to Margaret’s surprise, Herr Schmale was to dine with them that evening.

‘Do not make of any different arrangements,’ Herr Schmale urged a very flustered Aunt Hatt. Appetising smells were seeping through the house, as Mrs Sullivan was preparing a huge fish pie, and Herr Schmale showed every sign of being delighted. He seemed to want company, to be part of the family. ‘It vill be much more pleasurable than sitting in ze sterile rooms of an hotel!’

Margaret helped Aunt Hatt lay the table with her best white linen cloth and finest cutlery, including bone-handled fish knives. They lit red candles in the candelabra and Uncle Eb managed to find a bottle of port.

‘Ooh, port,’ Aunt Hatt said, making a face at Margaret as she placed six table napkins round the table. Georgie had been pressed into staying as well. ‘That usually only sees the light at Christmas.’

Herr Schmale produced a bottle of white German wine called Riesling and the five of them settled down at the table, the deep red curtains swathing the back window and the fire lit. At that moment, they heard the slam of the front door and Annie’s boots in the passage before she came flurrying in. No one had time to warn her that there was a visitor.