“No.”

“Can I pretend I live here all the time and that’s normally my room?”

“If you want to share it with him, sure.”

“You super pimp!”

And that was how he found her, still giggling merrily, a little flushed from the wine, and indubitably happy to see him, which was just how he liked it, and for a fleeting second he wished he’d brought some mistletoe. On the other hand, the bottle of Veuve Clicquot seemed to make up for it.

“I was expecting some complete slum!” he said, taking off the spanking-new brogues he had nipped back in for earlier in the afternoon. He thought this Monarch of the Glen look might be his new thing and was wishing there was a MacPfenning tartan. “You work in a shop!”

“I much prefer it when you do that fake charm thing you do with people you don’t know,” grumbled Carmen, stepping back.

But still, she couldn’t help being proud of the haven her sister had made, with the sweet smell of the expensive scented candles and the warmth and the tasteful modern paintings—real, actual paintings with paint on—on the dark blue walls.

“Well,” he said.

Sofia descended the stairs as gracefully as any eight-months-pregnant person can—i.e., not very. But her smile was lovely.

“Hello,” she said. “Welcome, Blair.”

“Look at your beautiful house!” he said gallantly, flashing the teeth. “It is so kind of you to have me for dinner; I really can’t believe you’re letting me impose in this way.”

“Too much! Too much!” hissed Carmen.

“Shut up!” Blair whispered back. Sofia observed them both with some amusement.

“Come, let me show you round,” she said, but just as she did so there came the most ear-piercing scream.

They all jumped as Phoebe came barreling out of the front room, closely followed by Jack, who was trying to look like someone who was not running for his life in terror but merely concerned for his sister.

Phoebe was in floods of utterly helpless tears and turned from Carmen to Sofia.

“What on earth is it?” said Sofia.

The TV noise from next door abruptly came to a halt and Pippa marched to the door, her small face furious, her little mouth pursed.

“That,” she exclaimed, “is far too frightening for children.”

“What have you been watching?” said Sofia immediately.

“Oh yes, I put on Cannibal Drill Killers,” said Carmen, stung. “It’s the Muppets! The Muppets aren’t scary!”

Instantly Phoebe burst into tears again, getting louder, and Jack and Pippa started immediately shouting that yes, in fact they were very, very scary, and Phoebe carried on moaning and crying and gulping for breath. Blair was standing there, looking as if he didn’t know what on earth to do with himself, as indeed he did not.

“For goodness’ sake,” said Sofia. “I asked you if it was suitable and you said it was animals.”