Hilda and Dove exchanged horrified glances as they looked round the desolate taproom.

‘Just imagine that the place is clean and smells fragrant, and there’s a fire burning in the inglenook,’ Judy said eagerly. She lit the lantern that they had brought with them, and held it above her head, throwing a beam of light on the bare shelves behind the bar. A rat chose that particular moment to race from one end of the counter to the other.

‘You’ll need the services of the rat catcher before you do anything else,’ Dove said, shuddering.

‘Or else get a couple of big tomcats to do the job for nothing,’ Hilda suggested, wrinkling her nose. ‘It stinks in here, Judy.’

‘There’s a small snug bar and a private parlour behind that,’ Judy said in desperation. ‘And a nice large kitchen with a big range.’

‘I can imagine the state that must be in if this part of the pub is anything to go by.’ Hilda braced her shoulders. ‘Bring the lantern, Judy. Let’s see the worst that the Crooked Billet has to offer.’

They explored the building, treading carefully to avoid the carapaces of dead cockroaches. Hilda was impressed with the size of the kitchen, but she shook her head when she examined the long-neglected range. Dove thought the parlour at the rear of the building could be made comfortable with suitable furniture and some carpet, and, to Judy’s surprise, it was Dove who was the most enthusiastic about reopening the inn to the public. They discussed the possibilities on their way home, but Hilda was reluctant to take a risk in a pub with such a dreadful reputation.

It was not easy, but eventually, after a lot of persuasion, Judy succeeded in winning her mother over. They spent the next two days armed with mops, brooms and scrubbing brushes, and the first thing Judy did was to clean the kitchen range. It took the best part of a morning to clear the ashes and attack the grease and rust, and when she had stripped it down to the cast iron, she applied a generous coating of black lead.

Nick’s gift to start them off in their new home was a supply of fuel delivered by the coalman, who was upset when he discovered that there was no beer to make up for the distance from the coal yard at the station to the pub on the headland. Judy promised him that when he delivered their next supply he would have a pint of their best ale, but he muttered something about there not being a next time and stamped out of the taproom, slamming the door behind him.

However, once the fire was going in the range and a kettle singing on the hob, the kitchen became a much friendlier place. Hilda had swept the dust, dirt and dead leaves from the taproom, and after a cup of strong tea, sweetened with a lump of sugar, she set about mopping the floor with the luxury of hot water and lye soap. Dove had also come to help and she had brought Linnet with her. They rolled up their sleeves and set to work, swapping jokes about the ‘old days’ when they were poor and lived in the cottage that Hilda had just vacated. There was another surprise when Daisy drove up in the chaise accompanied by Pip and Molly although Nate could not be spared by Mr Puckett, and soon they were all occupied with one task or another. Windows were cleaned, bedrooms were swept, scrubbed and the windows thrown open as soon as the rain-bearing clouds passed over. Daisy set to with a will, but Molly’s contribution was to flit from room to room, wielding a feather duster.