‘And that one is Princess Lay-a. She used to be quite garrulous, but for some reason she likes to keep herself to herself these days.’ Adrienne grimaced. ‘A bit like my son.’ She shook her head.

Intrigued Hannah ventured, ‘Conor?’

‘Yes.’ There was a droop to Adrienne’s mouth. ‘I suppose you know he used to be quite the big deal. And now he’s content to play maintenance man and builder. He doesn’t want anything to do with the cookery side of the things. Won’t even teach. He’ll help out when we need him to, but he won’t take up a proper role. Breaks my heart. And he won’t talk to me about it.’ She sighed. ‘All that talent.’ Then she smoothed her hair back and said, ‘Well, all this talk won’t bring the eggs in, will it?

She darted off to the barn, leaving Hannah wondering what all that had been about.

She came back a moment later with a pair of straw-lined baskets and handed one of them over. With it tucked on the crook of her arm, Hannah felt like something out of Little House on the Prairie.

Finding her first egg brought with it the joy of discovering treasure and Hannah grinned with an odd sense of triumph. How amazing that one of those busy strutting and pecking ladies had laid this. It was still warm to the touch. She tucked it into the straw in her basket and carried on looking for more. It didn’t take long to discover that with fifty hens there was an abundance of eggs. After she’d found fifteen she stopped counting, but it was still a thrill each time she gently added another one to her basket.

‘I’ll leave you to it. Take them to the kitchen when you think you’ve found them all. I’ll see you later.’ Adrienne clamped a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head and walked away, her voluminous – pale blue today – linen dress wafting about her, making her look as if she’d stepped out of a pre-Raphaelite painting. Hefting the now heavy basket, with a ridiculously overblown sense of achievement, Hannah bore the eggs over to the big farmhouse kitchen where Bridget, presiding over a large range oven, greeted her with a friendly smile.

‘Good morning to ye, Hannah. Eggscellent timing,’ she said with a mischievous grin. ‘Come grab a drink. Tea. Coffee. Help yourself.’ She inclined her head to the side where a selection of mugs and a large cafetière of coffee were arranged around the kettle.

Meredith and Alan were already seated at the table, chatting away over large mugs of coffee with empty plates in front of them.

‘Morning.’