‘It’s about the arrangements for Christmas. He said he’d be at his desk for another half an hour, so you should just catch him if you ring now.’

They left her to it, and she picked up the receiver to call Archie. She watched her family through the sitting room door while she waited to be connected, noticing how happy and animated her father seemed. They rattled around contentedly enough in a house that was far too big for two people, but there was no doubt that Crown Cottage had come to life the minute that Moire and Donald walked through the door. She felt a sudden pang of regret that she wouldn’t be part of it for longer. Her father wasn’t getting any younger, and with war more inevitable by the day and her middle sister now married to a naval officer, the opportunities for a family Christmas in the future might be few and far between. Moire’s words hadn’t been meant as a reproach, but the two of them had always been close; she, too, was sorry that their lives kept them apart except for snatched lunches in London, where Moire worked for the Gas Board, or the briefest of stays in Inverness.

‘Josephine, thanks for phoning so quickly.’ Archie’s voice cut into her thoughts before regret could turn to guilt, and the warmth in his tone reminded her of how much she was looking forward to seeing him. ‘I’m afraid there’s been a change of plan for the holidays.’

‘Why? Has something come up at work?’ 15

‘Not exactly. How do you fancy spending Christmas in a castle?’

They had arranged to stay on his family’s Cornish estate, and the question took her by surprise. ‘I suppose that depends on whether or not it’s got central heating,’ she said. ‘Where is it?’

‘On St Michael’s Mount, so we’d only be going a few miles further down the road. Have you got today’s Times?’

‘Yes, I think so. Hang on.’ She put the phone down and went to the dining room, where her father had been reading the paper over breakfast. ‘All right, I’ve got it. What am I supposed to be looking for? Are you in the headlines again?’

She heard him laugh, still embarrassed by the publicity surrounding a recent case that he had solved, bringing to justice a man who had brutally murdered his wife and three children. ‘You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?’

‘Probably not. You’re the only person I know who’s been in a newsreel.’

‘Well, that’s all over and done with now, thank God. Look at the main story on page six.’

She did as he asked, finding the clue to what he meant in an article headed ‘Ingenious fundraising idea boosts Refugee appeal’, and Archie waited patiently while she read the whole piece:

A recent Times advertisement has met with an unprecedented response, taking the total of The Lord Baldwin Fund for Refugees to £155,730. In Saturday’s newspaper, the Hon. Hilaria St Aubyn announced that she will be opening her family home at St Michael’s 16Mount in Cornwall to a limited number of guests for Christmas in order to raise money for this urgent and important cause. The Mount, which lies off the coast near Penzance and is accessed at low tide by a narrow causeway, is crowned by a medieval church and castle, rich in both history and legend, and the unique opportunity to spend Christmas in such a romantic setting has met with an extremely generous response. One reader alone – whose identity shall remain a secret for now – has pledged ten thousand pounds to the Fund, which was established by the former Prime Minister to bring thousands of Jewish children out of Nazi Germany and care for them in hostels and private homes. Miss St Aubyn, who is widely known for her charitable work, is said to be delighted by the success of the scheme and promises her guests a Christmas they will never forget.