Hanna’s mouth parted at the question, but no words came.

‘Then we’ll scream back,’ Bell said firmly, taking his hand in hers again and giving him one of her signature wry looks.

Linus looked shocked. ‘We can’t do that.’ He looked at his mother. ‘Can we?’

‘You won’t need to. Your father was sick then, but he’s much better now. You’ll see.’

Bell tugged his arm affectionately, pulling him away. ‘Come on. I want to see what our rooms are like.’

‘Do you?’

No. ‘Absolutely,’ she said, sticking her chin in the air. ‘I hope I’ve got a revolving bed.’

He nodded, as though that seemed like a good thing to have. ‘I want an observatory in mine.’

‘You might well have one,’ she sighed. ‘Have you seen the size of this place?’

‘The mirrors had better be two-way.’

‘They’d better be,’ she agreed. They trod over the grass, crushing daisies underfoot, the ground springy beneath their feet. ‘D’you reckon they keep cheetahs here?’

He looked up at her. ‘Why cheetahs?’

‘Why not?’ she shrugged. ‘Perhaps your dad’s a fast runner.’

‘He was in a coma for seven years.’

‘All the more reason to run now he’s awake, then.’

Linus chuckled. ‘I think you’re the crazy one, Bell.’

‘You could very well be right, Linus,’ she grinned.

They were at the top of the lawn now, just a few metres from the feet of the white-haired man. He hadn’t moved a muscle in all that time. The suitcase was still standing on its side, beside him.

Linus gave a little startle at the sudden nearness of him and turned back, realizing he had distractedly left his mother and sisters by the trees. But they were not there now. Only a rabbit, hopping lazily through the longer grass, ears pinned back as it began to nibble on a dandelion.

Bell squeezed his hand and made him look at her. She gave him the slow blink they sometimes shared in the playground when he didn’t want to hug her in front of his friends.

‘You must be Isobel?’ the man said to her, after a moment.

She turned to face him, gripping Linus’s hand more tightly in hers, though whether that was for his benefit or her own, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was, she had to protect this child against these people. ‘Yes. But please call me Bell.’ Her voice was polite but firm, her eyes steely.

To her surprise, the blue eyes looking back at her were kindly. ‘I am Måns, Mr Von Greyer’s valet. And this must be Master Linus?’

Linus stared back at him, anachronistic against the grand orange house and the valet’s crisp suit, in his cut-off jean shorts and trainers. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ His voice was robotic and he looked ready to run.

‘I’m very pleased to meet you, young sir. Everyone is very excited that you have come to stay with us. Won’t you please follow me?’

They both stared after him for a moment, wrong-footed by the warm welcome. Bond villains weren’t supposed to have friendly old men as their sidekicks. Nor orange lairs.