Everything ached, including her head, when she reached the house. She went around locking doors and windows but left the back door by the larder unlocked in case her mother was still out, but it was now almost one in the morning and she hadn’t seen her. She was probably sound asleep in bed, which was where Lottie should be. Stifling a yawn, she climbed the far staircase. She would check on her grandparents before she called it a night. Tomorrow, or more correctly today, could prove to be a long day. She needed to make a proper list of all the things that needed to be done on Monday.

When she reached the landing, she saw her mother in the hallway taking everything out of the closet once more.

‘There you are.’ Lottie walked up to her.

Her mother looked up with a haunted expression. ‘They are all so beautiful.’

Lottie nodded. Her mother had taken each dress out of their garment bags and unboxed all the shoes. There were only a few things left hanging. Seeing all the clothes Lottie thought of her earlier conversation with Pat Treneer. She looked for the sea-blue dress he had described. Was it the one she had seen on Friday?

‘It was such a different age.’ Stroking a pillbox hat, her mother sat on the floor.

‘Jackie O.’

‘Yes, when she was the first lady and white gloves were de rigueur.’ She picked up a pair of long calfskin gloves.

‘Do you remember?’ Lottie knelt beside her.

‘Flashes of things and jewels.’

‘Jewels?’ Lottie raised her eyebrows. Gran wore pearls but nothing else that she recalled.

‘Diamonds.’

‘I’ve never seen any other than her rings.’

‘Diamonds were only to be worn after five.’ Her mother chuckled.

‘Where did that come from?’

Her mother shrugged. ‘Somewhere. I wish I knew,’ she smiled. She stroked the silk of the dress in front of her. ‘Maybe . . . Lady Fox?’

‘Who?’ Lottie froze. She’d read that name in the diary. Her mother was beginning to remember more.

Frowning, her mother said, ‘My great aunt, possibly.’ She shrugged. ‘My mother had beautiful jewellery.’ She closed her eyes. ‘Even some Russian ones.’ Her hand went to her neck. ‘There was an enamelled locket and other pieces.’ She opened her eyes and dropped her hand. ‘I wonder what she did with them.’

‘Maybe she sold them.’ Lottie frowned.

‘I guess money was tight.’ She waved her hand. ‘She rented out Boskenna and went back to work.’

‘We could ask her about them.’

‘Sadly, I think that possibility has passed.’ Her mother yawned.

Lottie nodded with a heavy heart. ‘Why don’t we leave these here and go through them tomorrow when we’ve had some sleep?’ She stood as the longcase clock downstairs chimed the hour.