‘So, Posy,’ Heather said kindly, in an obvious rescue attempt. ‘Tell us, which is your favourite Dahlia mystery?’

‘Oh, um –’

‘Oh, Heather, leave the girl alone,’ Harry said. ‘She might not even be a fan. Yet.’

‘No, no, no,’ Ashok put in. ‘She must be, because Anton promised – remember? In that interview he gave when it was announced that he’d be making the new movies. Last year? He said that “as an uber-fan himself, he couldn’t imagine casting or working with people who didn’t love Lettice Davenport’s novels as much as he did.”’ He sounded like he was quoting from the article, which was a bit terrifying, Posy decided.

‘And I do,’ she lied. ‘I mean, who didn’t watch Caro as Dahlia on Sunday afternoons with their grandparents, right?’ The best way to sell a lie was with a bit of truth. She had watched them – or at least, she’d been in the room while they were happening.

‘But you have read the books as well, right?’ Felicity asked. ‘I mean, the shows were good, I suppose. But the books … they’re when the characters really come to life. Dahlia, she practically jumps off the page!’

‘Of course!’ Oh, it was all lies now. ‘It was a while ago, though, so my memory of the details isn’t always exact. But I’m rereading them right now – just starting, uh, Never Underestimate a Lady, again. Since I’m staying in the China Room while we’re here at Aldermere.’

That distracted them for a few seconds, as they all cooed over the creepy descriptions of the room in the book – and merrily spoiled the ending for her. Not that she cared. But she’d definitely be checking the pattern on the walls for any discrepancies before bed.

‘So which is your favourite?’ Ashok asked. ‘Of all the Dahlia Lively mysteries, I mean.’

‘I don’t think I could pick one,’ Posy hedged.

‘Oh, but everyone has a secret favourite,’ Heather said. ‘It’s like children! We all say we don’t, but …’

Everyone laughed at that.

‘I think my favourite has to be The Lady Detective,’ Kit decided, as the laughter quietened. ‘That moment when Dahlia walks in and throws Johnnie’s investigation up in the air. It’s perfect.’

‘Right!’ Felicity said, beaming at him. ‘I love that moment. When she flings open the door and says …’ She waited a beat, for them to chorus along with her.

‘That’s because only an idiot would think this was a suicide,’ the others chanted. ‘You’re not an idiot, are you, detective inspector? Only I can’t abide idiots.’

They all laughed, and Posy smiled too, hopelessly lost and hoping against hope that no one would notice.

Of course, they did.

She saw the looks between them, the nods, the sly glances, and she knew. She was being judged and found wanting. Again.