Harriet interrupted. ‘What happened to the bears?’

‘Dunno. Sold for meat, I expect. Ended up in a tasty stew, eh?’ He laughed, exposing brown molars. Silas clocked the anxious frown on Harriet’s face as she glanced at the boys.

‘Nah,’ he said. ‘They went to a retirement ’ome for bears. There’s one where I’ve come from, full o’ lazy old bears it is.’ Harriet smiled gratefully at him. ‘Harriet,’ he whispered, ‘I ’av to ask thee why Mr Boothby, whenever he looks my way, has his lips as pursed as a pig’s bum.’

He was gratified to see Harriet splutter with laughter and at that moment Mr Boothby appeared.

‘Ah, here you all are. I’m sorry I was waylaid. I had a little business to conduct at the curator’s residence. Silas, I hear you mention where you come from, where is that exactly?’

‘Over the hills and far away.’ He winked at Harriet and was thrilled to see the blush rise in her cheeks.

They nodded to a couple passing by, a young couple who were arm in arm. The weather was cold but dry and there were plenty of fine people perambulating about. Probably the only exercise they ever got. He wished he could take Harriet’s arm. His brother Peter would have done by now. In fact, he’d have already found an excuse to get her alone, behind a tree or bush or one of the giant green fronds in the conservatory where he would plant a kiss on her mouth.

She was talking now, but he’d been too busy thinking about kissing her. She looked pale under that black bonnet that hid her lovely red hair. Black was too severe a colour on her. He’d find an excuse to buy her a new bonnet, a blue one to match his new waistcoat, with a red ribbon.

‘… and away from the town smog. We could be in another world.’ She took a deep breath. ‘All this fresh air.’

‘I got enough o’ that at ’ome,’ said Silas.

‘So you say you came to town the day of the disaster,’ said Mr Boothby.

‘Aye.’

‘Alone?’

‘I came wi’ a companion. A dog. I lost her in the flood.’

‘Oh, no!’ said Harriet. ‘I am sorry, Silas.’

‘A mere dog?’

‘Others ’ave suffered worse, I know,’ said Silas. ‘I’m only tellin’ thee my tale.’

They had reached a wide expanse of grass near a mound planted with saplings.

‘Let’s have our picnic here,’ said Harriet. ‘Adam, give me the blanket. Thank you for carrying the basket, Silas.’

‘Can we go and look at the pond?’ said Adam.

‘Yes. Be careful.’

‘You ought to go along with them, young man,’ said Mr Boothby to Silas.

‘I’m sure Silas would like to have some food first,’ said Harriet, ‘before the boys return. They are like locusts.’

He could feel the hostility coming off Mr Boothby in waves. It was worth it, though, to be in Harriet’s company. She seemed a serious sort, but they had exchanged a glance or two where her eyes were full of warmth. He watched her busy herself setting out the picnic.