If there were half a dozen words more likely to stir guilt in the human heart, Josephine had yet to hear them. ‘Not this year,’ she said, conscious that the same answer would have applied to last Christmas and the Christmas before that. ‘I’m going to stay with a friend in Cornwall.’

‘My, that’s a long way to travel! You don’t do things by halves, do you? Would that be the same friend you went to America with last year?’

‘No, a different friend. I have more than one.’

‘Of course you do. You must bring them all home to meet us one of these days. So your father …’

‘Will be staying here, yes. My sisters are both coming up for the holidays.’ Josephine looked at her watch, surprised by how long she had been out. ‘In fact, Moire should be here by now. We thought it would be nice to spend a few days together before I have to leave.’ A summons from the counter 13saved her from any further conversation, and she bought her stamps and headed for home. Her brother-in-law’s car was standing in the driveway, its back seat piled with parcels, and she opened the front door onto a hallway which was scarcely recognisable as the one she had left an hour earlier. Rather than take her cases up to her room, Moire had begun to unpack at the bottom of the stairs, much to the frustration of the daily woman. The floor was littered with clothes, shoes and cosmetics. ‘Have the January sales started early?’ Josephine asked wryly. ‘This could give the ground floor of Benzie’s a run for its money.’

Moire laughed and got up to give her older sister a hug. ‘You’ve run out of sherry,’ she said by way of greeting. ‘We bought you a bottle but I wrapped it in one of Donald’s pullovers to stop it getting broken, and now I can’t remember which bag it was in.’

‘There’s more sherry in the cupboard under the stairs. They delivered a case this morning but I haven’t had time to unpack it yet.’ She glanced round at the chaos and raised an eyebrow. ‘I put it in there so it wouldn’t make the place look untidy.’

‘Ha! Here it is.’ Moire waved the Tío Pepe triumphantly and began to shove everything else haphazardly back into the suitcases. ‘The house looks wonderful,’ she said, ‘but I wish you were staying for Christmas. We come home and you leave three days later. I could take that personally, you know. It’s been ages since we spent any decent time together.’

She was right, but before Josephine could say anything her father popped his head round the sitting room door. ‘Ah, you’re back – good. Chief Inspector Penrose telephoned while you were out.’ 14

It amused Josephine that her father held the authority of Scotland Yard in such high regard that he could never quite bring himself to use a first name, even though she and Archie had been friends for more than twenty years. ‘Did he leave a message?’ she asked.