Marta smiled, and Josephine took advantage of the pause in proceedings to look in detail at the works of art around the altar. The reredos was disappointingly ordinary, but there were three striking alabaster plaques of biblical scenes, and the stained glass here was every bit as distinctive as the panels she had so admired in Chevy Chase the night before. One window in particular caught her attention: a vivid image of the Virgin and child, with St Michael’s Mount in the background and a dog at her feet; Josephine had no doubt that the spaniel was a family pet of the time, and the scene seemed to capture perfectly the way in which the sacred and domestic lives of the island had run hand in hand over the centuries. The walls in this part of the church were devoted to the memory of various St Aubyn family members, and Josephine couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like for Hilaria to sit regularly amongst such tangible reminders of how quickly time passed.

The buzz of expectant chatter built steadily as the congregation waited for the service to begin, although the family pews were still looking woefully depleted. Hilaria was busy welcoming people at the door, with Fielding hovering just behind her, and Josephine wondered if anyone had bothered to tell him that Marlene wasn’t expected. Barbara Penhaligon finally put in an appearance, looking a little hungover, and sat down next to them with a brief nod. There was still no sign of the Lancasters. At precisely a minute to nine, the staff who were on duty that day filed into the church 162and sat in the row of seats that had been left vacant for them, while Hilaria took her place at the front, glancing nervously at her watch.

A door opened at the back of the church and all eyes turned towards it, but the new arrival would have looked completely out of place in the pulpit. Marlene was dressed in a Marcel Rochas trouser suit, broad at the shoulders and made of the designer’s signature grey flannel, a look which somehow managed to be both defiant and uniquely feminine. She walked down the aisle as if she had known the church all her life and took a seat next to Hilaria, much to Barbara Penhaligon’s annoyance. The two adversaries glared at each other across the choir, and Josephine hid a smile. ‘My God, that woman knows how to make an entrance,’ Marta whispered admiringly. ‘She’s upstaged the Virgin bloody Mary.’

She was right: a collective jaw had dropped amongst the congregation, and although they stopped short of applauding, there would be a few bruised ribs in the morning from the vigorous nudges that passed down the rows. The organ music stopped and there was another expectant hush as everyone looked again to the back of the church, waiting for Richard Hartley to make his entrance, but it began again almost immediately, this time with something a little more strident. Archie caught Hilaria’s eye, and Josephine saw her give him a puzzled shrug.