Eliot is considered good looking. He looks pale by candlelight, a lean man with as much colour in his cheeks as an unbaked scone.

By contrast, Benjie’s normally ruddy complexion had turned scarlet, thanks to the drink. He wagged his finger at Eliot. “Get a bigger car. They’ll all give way.”

Just as I was about to begin a subtle enquiry about the train line to London, Benjie said, “So tell us what great investigations you have been involved in lately, Kate?”

“Nothing to report, Deputy Lord Lieutenant, but if you need my services do let me know.”

I wish nobody knew my occupation. If I were a typist, I would not be pinned in a corner and have questions fired at me about how one erases neatly on a carbon copy.

Eliot broke in. “As it happens we have had some trouble. Took a call from one of my railway managers. Seems our area director has taken it upon himself to appoint a fellow to look into security, at the suggestion of the police.” He caught Benjie’s thunderous look and tailed off. “Subject to our approval of course.”

Benjie glared. “Save that for the brandy, old chap. You can tell me what he’s going to cost.”

Eliot turned pink. He looked across at me. “It’s to do with the pilfering, especially on trains that bring the Scotch whisky.”

He was lying, yet I could not shake the feeling that one or other of these men was baiting me.

Benjie steered us back to his question. “I know you don’t talk about your work, Kate. Confidentiality and all that. I’m curious. It’s none of my business, but do you earn money at it?”

I gave him my sweetest smile. “You’re right, Benjie. It’s none of your business.”

Mrs. Dell laughed. “Good for you, my dear.”

Gertrude put down her knife and fork. “Darling, Kate doesn’t need to make money. She is a woman of independent means who just happens to like helping people in trouble.”

Benjie bowed. “Just jesting. Kate knows me better than that.”

I suddenly wished I had not come to stay here, but it was too late now.

Eliot’s was a simple remark about the security man. He was trying to make conversation, or was he?

Perhaps I was being over-sensitive but I felt suddenly uneasy, as if the three of them had turned a spotlight on me.

Mrs. Dell said little after that. She looked from one person to the next as they spoke, and I felt sure that she was lip-reading as well as listening.

Gertrude said to Eliot, “Kate has turned her hand to photographic journalism.”

“It’s an assignment for a feature on people and places.”

Even Eliot managed to look engaged. “Round here? Not somewhere more picturesque?”

I was glad of having read Philip’s treatise. I talked about this being the hub of the country, the cradle of industry, about coal, and the miracle of rhubarb.

Eliot swallowed a mouthful of food. “You must see the sinking of the pit shaft. It will be a unique opportunity.” He glanced at Benjie. “We want the world to know we’ll be opening a new mine.”