She took the towels that had been laid out for her on the bed, and washed quickly in the nearest bathroom. Shivering, she hurried back to dress in front of the fire, but as she turned the corner, she saw the housekeeper coming out of the room two doors down from her own. To her relief, Mrs Pendean turned in the opposite direction and headed for the staircase, 107but an elderly man wearing a dog collar – presumably the Reverend Hartley – came out of his room after her and called her back. They began what looked like an earnest conversation on the landing, and Josephine made a beeline for her door, hoping to slip into her room unnoticed, but the housekeeper was too sharp for her and she knew it was only a matter of time before she received a visit. Sure enough, a few minutes later there was a polite knock at the door.

‘Come in,’ Josephine called, struggling with the zip which had caught halfway up in her haste to get the dress on before she was disturbed. She smiled at the housekeeper. ‘Good evening, Mrs Pendean.’

‘Good evening, madam. Now that you’re back, is there anything I can help you with?’

Perhaps Josephine was imagining the implied criticism that she had been absent without leave from her room, disrupting the smooth routines of the house, but she resisted the temptation to explain herself. ‘This dress isn’t being very co-operative, I’m afraid.’

‘Let me see.’

The defiant zip was dealt with in a second, and Josephine thanked her. She sat down at the dressing table to redo her make-up, hoping that Mrs Pendean would take charge of any other rituals that were expected of her, and watched in the mirror as the housekeeper picked up the day clothes that she had hurriedly discarded on the chair as she changed. Mrs Pendean shook the dress out and put it on a hanger, where it instantly fell straight and smooth, the cuffs flat against the skirt, with no errant sleeves sticking out and certainly no sign of the day’s long journey; the garment was tidied away in the wardrobe, and Josephine knew that it would 108emerge creaseless and as good as new whenever it was next required. ‘Thank you,’ she said again, but the comment met with no response, and she wondered if gratitude was somehow inappropriate. She found the silence awkward as Mrs Pendean walked over to turn down the bed, and decided just to be herself; there was little point in pretending she was used to this, particularly when she probably had far more in common with some of the servants than she did with the family who owned the house. ‘I imagine the island will look spectacular in the morning,’ she said, as she powdered her face. ‘Do you often get snow like this at Christmas?’

‘It’s unusual, madam. I’ve only known it once or twice in my lifetime, and not since my daughter was a little girl.’