‘True.’ She laughed. Boskenna was big and so much of it not in use, like that old pantry next door. She had no idea when someone had last ventured in there. It could have been her and Alex looking for chutney. They’d never found it but had spent a long time kissing in the dark before Gran had come to look for herself. She grinned.

‘Good memory.’

She lifted her eyes. ‘Yes, it was.’

‘Share?’

She tilted her head to one side and said, ‘Relish.’

‘Oh, that one.’ He blushed, and she laughed again. He’d been much more embarrassed being caught kissing than Lottie had been.

‘Yes, that one.’ It had been one of many and looking at him now she wanted to do it all over again . . . but have it end differently.

‘About that drink tonight?’

She took a deep breath. ‘Gran.’

He nodded.

She stood and put the kettle on. She should just tell him she wasn’t free. Gran wasn’t good, but Paul was the real reason she couldn’t and shouldn’t have a drink with him. She’d hurt Alex once, she wouldn’t do it again. She turned around and bumped into him.

‘Lottie,’ he said, standing so close she could have stood on tiptoe and kissed him, but she stepped back – just as her mother walked in with groceries in her hands. Alex’s grandmother, Mrs Hoskine, followed close behind. When Lottie was little, she’d been still doing occasional work for her grandparents but she had retired years ago.

‘Look at you, all grown up.’ The depth of her smile caused her merry eyes to disappear almost completely.

‘How lovely to see you, Mrs Hoskine. It’s been years.’

‘It has, my love, it has. I was heading this way because young Alex told me Mrs Russell is not well.’ She looked to her grandson.

Lottie nodded, wishing ‘not well’ was all it was.

‘Your mother found me walking down the lane.’ Lottie sent her mother a questioning look. So Mrs Hoskine hadn’t been the cause of her delay. Where the hell had she been? It didn’t take two hours to shop, even on an August Saturday.

‘Would you like to see her?’

‘Yes, dear I would.’ She stepped forward and Lottie let Mrs Hoskine set the pace. She was pleased to see that, although nearly the same age as her grandmother, she was still fit and able, climbing the stairs well.

‘The house hasn’t changed at all.’ She looked around. And it hadn’t, in essence. But Lottie had never seen the house look so tired, not even back in February.

‘She’s still in her room?’

‘Yes.’