As if aware of her gaze, Jack shot back a searching glance. He wandered over to the other side of the room and asked about the telescope in the corner, positioned by the window. Her father was only too delighted to show the American his collection of optical instruments. His ‘star-gazers’ as he called them.

She watched as Jack’s pale fingers clicked the pieces into place and he leaned down to look through the eye-piece. Her father looked on proudly. ‘Have you ever done any of this yourself, young man?’

Jack gave him a white-toothed smile. ‘Some. For the services, you see. What’s this?’ He was holding up a camera in his hand, cradling it in his palm as if it was a precious bird’s egg. ‘It’s beautiful.’

The air in the room cooled. It had been her mother’s. It was a shiny metal camera that could fit in the palm of your hand. It had an odd French name – LeCoultre Compass – and had been passed down to her mother by an old uncle. She had used it all the time, but since her death, no one had touched it. It remained on the corner table by the window, sat there like a useless ornament, stoppered, gathering dust.

No one spoke for a few seconds and she saw that Jack noticed this but did not seem perturbed. Finally, Peter stepped in.

‘It was Mother’s,’ he said. ‘Photography was something of a family hobby. I think it was actually invented by a family member – one of Mother’s aristocratic lot – apparently he took on a bet that you couldn’t make a camera that would fit in a cigarette packet. Mother was an amateur, but very good.’ He glanced at their father.

‘Madmen, the lot of them,’ Father grunted.

Jack set the camera down on the table gently. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ he said. ‘It’s incredibly rare.’ He had a dreamy look she hadn’t seen before. None of them had ever paid much attention to her mother’s interest. The American was saying something under his breath while his fingers nimbly caressed the levers and dials but she couldn’t catch what it was.

‘Father, Jack and I really need to get off,’ said Peter, downing his drink.

Her father seemed to jolt himself into joviality. ‘Yes, yes. You go and have your fun. One minute, though, Peter, I need to have a word with you.’ Peter gave Jack a strangled look and Jack jumped out of his chair.

‘Mr Frost, sir, would you mind if I took a look around your home? I’ve always had a great interest in English country houses but I haven’t had the chance to take a good look at one as fantastic as this. Could Miss Frost show me?’ Peter had his eyes raised to heaven but Jack took no notice.