At the meal everyone took a biscuit, and Robert ended up with a crocodile. ‘What’s a crocodile got to do with the pirate theme?’ he asked.

‘There’s a crocodile who menaces the pirates in Peter Pan,’ I said, catching Kit’s eye. He was smiling. ‘And there’s one living in the lake.’

‘But isn’t it a dragon in your lake?’ someone asked. ‘Not a crocodile?’

‘It depends on which legend you read,’ I said. ‘Some say the Wormley Dragon was actually a crocodile.’

Mrs Waddington offered the plate to Jimmy. He’d been at my side all the time, behaving beautifully, perhaps overawed in the company of so many older children, who had mostly been ignoring him. ‘Look, there’s just one dragon left,’ she said. ‘I think you should have it.’

The conversation was interrupted by Mr Waddington. Tapping a glass with a spoon to bring us to silence, he announced that a surprise would be revealed at the boathouse, and we should take our swimming things and make our way there as soon as we’d finished our tea.

The ‘surprise’ turned out to be a new boat for the lake: the most curious kind I’d ever seen, with highly varnished wooden sides and a base of bright-red coated canvas stretched tightly over a wooden frame. It had two seats, two oars and two rowlocks, and didn’t look particularly safe. Mr Waddington produced a bottle of champagne. ‘What shall we name her?’ he asked, glancing around for suggestions.

‘Victory,’ someone suggested. ‘The Beagle,’ another said. These boarding-school boys were well versed in their history, right enough. Various other suggestions followed, most of them silly and unsuitable.

‘Tell you what,’ Kit said eventually. ‘Jimmy is such a good rower, I’m going to let him name her.’ He gave my brother the sweetest smile. ‘Think of a nice name for the canvas boat, Jim-boy,’ he said. ‘Maybe something that’s red?’

It came out almost at once, as though the word had been in his head all along. ‘Rob . . . Robin,’ he said, pronouncing it almost perfectly. ‘Molly likes robins.’

Mr Waddington popped the cork – it bounced into the lake and floated there – before pouring the fizzy wine over the prow of the boat and announcing in a very pompous voice, ‘I name this ship Robin.’ We all laughed and cheered, especially Jimmy, who clapped his hands and tried to climb into it immediately.

‘Not yet. Let Kit try it out first,’ I said, holding him back.