“What in God’s name is all this weeping and wailing?” Noel Coward appeared in the doorway, wearing a striped silk dressing gown, with a long cigarette holder between his fingers and a pained expression on his handsome face. “I thought I chose this place for peace and quiet.”

“There’s been a tragedy, Noel. Rosie’s uncle fell off a bridge last night and drowned.”

“Ah, the transience of life.” Noel gave a dramatic sigh. “Frightfully sorry to hear about your uncle, Rosie dear, but could you grieve more quietly, do you think? The muse was doing splendidly until a few minutes ago, when she fluttered out the window and simply vanished.”

“Do you want me to go looking for it for you, sir?” Rosie asked. “Some kind of pet bird, is it?”

Noel sighed again. “I shall return to my room, I think. Could you be an angel and produce some drinkable coffee, Mrs. Huggins?”

He was about to make a dramatic exit when my mother called after him. “Look who has come to visit, Noel. My daughter, Georgiana.”

He spun around. “Georgiana, of course! I thought the face looked familiar but I couldn’t quite place you. Lovely to see you, my dear. Are you just passing through?”

“No, I’m actually here for Christmas,” I said wickedly as I watched Noel struggling to hide his annoyance.

“She’s staying at Gorzley Hall,” Mummy corrected hastily. “They are going to have a frightfully jolly house party there, so I gather.”

“Well, bully for you,” Noel said. “Claire and I will be working. Slaving away, actually, but do come down for a drink sometime, won’t you?”

With that he stomped back up the stairs.

Mummy gave me a commiserating smile. “You mustn’t mind him. He’s awfully grouchy when he’s working. I’m glad you’re here, darling. We must have some girl time together.”

Mrs. Huggins was loitering at the kitchen door. “Does that mean my Queenie has come down here with you, my lady?” she asked.

I remembered that Queenie was her great-niece. “Yes, she’s here with me. I’ll send her down to say hello to you.”

“Is she proving to be satisfactory, my lady?”

I couldn’t tell the brutal truth that Queenie would probably never be satisfactory in her life. “She’s definitely improving, Mrs. Huggins,” I said.

“Well, that’s nice to know, isn’t it?” She beamed at me as she went back into the kitchen.

Noises outside indicated that a ladder had been found and that Bunty was attempting to go up the tree. “I should go,” I said. “I’m supposed to be gathering mistletoe.”

“I hope there is someone worth kissing at your party,” Mummy said. “Such a waste of mistletoe otherwise.”

I came out to find Granddad steadying the ladder while Bunty clung to it precariously. “I volunteered to go up for the young lady,” he said, “but she wouldn’t hear of it.”

“Quite right. No ladders at your age,” I said.

“I’m not over the hill yet,” he said. “By the way, what was all that fuss about in there? I heard weeping and wailing.”