‘I am – how you say? – astonished! It iz all planned, and all sounds wonderful. I am excited to see my paintings on sale again.’

‘No, it isn’t planned, it is only an idea. But oh, I’m so happy you think it a good one. I will begin the planning and research stage now, and the financial side, too. It has to be viable, and we have to see that we can make a profit.’

‘Vous êtes une merveille.’

‘Oh, I hope that isn’t something rude. I do understand that you said “You are a” but after that . . .?’

‘How you say? “Marvellous”, but shorter.’

‘Marvel? Well, I’ll only be that if it works, but I’m going to give it my all.’

‘Then it will certainly work; it haz to, ma fille habile – my clever one.’

‘I’ll talk over every step that I take. I hope to start soon after Christmas, once Betsy has had her baby and is up and about.’

On cue, Betsy entered the conversation by yelling up that breakfast would be ready in five minutes. This had them both scrambling out of bed. They jollied each other for a turn at splashing themselves with water from the bowl on the dresser and then donned dressing gowns. Opening the door to their bedroom released the delicious smell of frying bacon drifting up to them. Holding hands, they descended the wide staircase together and were soon amid the hubbub of noisy children and general family life.

They had purposely chosen the biggest room to be their kitchen, so that they could fit a huge table into it. The floors were a shiny dark stone, and the walls a rough texture in cream, with many hooks drilled into them, holding strings of onions, brightly polished copper pans and bunches of herbs of all kinds. The range took up at least six feet of one wall and had a proving oven, a warming oven and a baking oven, as well as a hot plate on one side and an open fire on the other. Next to this was a dresser on one side, which displayed their best china and contained their everyday dishes in its cupboard, and a pantry on the other, with a cold slab for butter, lard and milk, as well as a cold store for meats. The table was scrubbed wood and each of the ten chairs had a cushion in blue gingham, which matched the tablecloth they put on for mealtimes, plus the curtains as well as the small curtain around the deep pot-sink. Next to the sink, which was placed under the window and between the doors, was a gas stove for when it was too hot to light the range. All in all, it was a family room, where they all congregated during the day.

Mags loved it. Memories of being an only child often assailed her, and when she compared it to this, she knew she had missed out.