‘All in the past.’ His smiled faded a little. ‘When Kate was so ill, I had to take charge of feeding us, and she needed good food, not some reheated microwave dinner. It was a wake-up call. I must say, I quite enjoy cooking now. So, how about Thursday, the day after the market? Then you can fill me in on how you got on with Emilia. I’d say call in after you drop her off, but Kate’s agent and author are coming down to pick up the draft images of Kate’s new character, so we’ll be pretty tied up.’

‘Thursday will be lovely. It’ll be nice to see Kate again,’ Liz said.

‘Er, look, I have to warn you, she could be absolutely fine . . .’ He sighed. ‘It could be just us for lunch. If she’s in the middle of working on something, she might not want to interrupt it. No disrespect to you, I promise. It’s just the way she is at the moment. The deadlines don’t help with her stress levels and I’m inclined to let her do what she has to.’

‘Of course.’ Matt beamed at his friend, secretly disturbed by what he had just heard. ‘If we see her, great, but no pressure, okay?’

Will drained his coffee. ‘I suppose I’d better get back. I’m so pleased you can check all this out for me.’ He stood up and smiled at Liz. ‘And you were right about the Hobnobs. We clearly did need them.’ He pointed to the half-empty plate. ‘I’ll see you Thursday. Come at around one.’

They waved him off and went back inside.

‘What did you make of all that?’ Liz asked.

‘He’s strung out like a washing line,’ Matt said. ‘And I get the feeling that all at Holland House is not sweetness and light.’

‘I’ll be very interested to know how our lunch date goes.’ Liz, carrying the tray, backed through the kitchen door. ‘But in the meantime, we have our rendezvous with Mrs Emilia Swain. Tell me what you know of her.’

Matt shrugged. ‘Not much. She lives in a cottage called Little Anchor on the road that leads to Holland House. She’s Will and Kate’s nearest neighbour, has a very pretty garden, you’ve probably seen it.’

‘I know the one, we commented on it last time we visited Will.’

Matt nodded. ‘She must be in her early seventies but still looks pretty tough. She has an air of determination that I rather admire. I hope we can help her — if she opens up to us.’

‘Use your charm, my darling. Women are putty in your hands.’ She grinned at him, fluttering her eyelashes. ‘Resistance is futile where you’re concerned. I should know!’

‘Strumpet! Away with you.’