I was spending far too much time with the Good Samaritan of Wynbridge, and what with it almost being Christmas and everything, his kind deeds were turning my head. I had to nip this silly crush, if that’s what it was, in the bud. I was in love with Jonathan, practically his wife, and all set to move to the other side of the world with him in almost no time at all. I hoped he would call again soon so I could tell him properly how much I had loved the photos of the apartment.

‘Anyway,’ I continued, quickly bursting the Beamish filled bubble with a Jonathan shaped pin, ‘did you tick skating off the list?’

‘Yes,’ said Dolly, with a sigh, ‘although personally I wouldn’t have minded another few laps around the rink.’

‘Well there’s still time,’ I told her. ‘I think it’s going to be set up into the new year. Perhaps we can arrange for you to go back again.’

She didn’t answer and when I looked up from stirring my tea, her face was wearing the strangest expression. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but it scared me a bit.

‘Couldn’t you, Dolly?’ I prompted when she didn’t comment. ‘You could go back again?’

‘Hattie,’ she said, her voice catching, ‘there’s something . . .’

Her words trailed off but she still looked a little odd. I hoped having me here wasn’t proving too much for her. Having watched her glide over the ice and running rings around the children at school, it was all too easy to forget how old she was. She was such a generous hostess. She’d barely let me lift a finger since I’d arrived.

‘What is it?’

Her eyes darted to the front window and I heard the gate creak open.

‘Oh, now here’s Rose,’ she said, sounding completely normal, ‘and I haven’t got all the albums out yet. Can you give me a hand, Hattie, please? Assuming of course you can bend that far.’

After I had let Rose in and taken her coat, scarf, and gloves all thoughts of what it was that Dolly might have been going to say were forgotten.

‘I can’t help thinking it looks like snow,’ Rose said glumly.

‘I thought you’d be all for a bit of the white stuff,’ I told her. ‘What with you and the rest of Wynbridge being so mad keen on Christmas. I bet the Connellys at Wynthorpe Hall will be thrilled with a white Winter Wonderland.’

‘Angus has got a snow machine for the grotto should the weather not come up trumps,’ Dolly laughed.

That didn’t surprise me. I hadn’t met him yet but I couldn’t imagine that a little thing like Mother Nature would get in the way of him creating the right ambience for his visitors.