After lunch, which Gina ate with Mrs Bassett after she had taken upstairs the cook’s magnificent trifle, Gina went out to help with the final fête preparations. There were little marquees set up on the lawn and a big one along one end for the vegetable show. The tabletop stalls were to be put in place the next morning in case of overnight rain. The forecast was, as ever that summer, for cool and changeable weather.

The fête committee had brought in several helpers, who were noisy and relaxed, having met up in the Lamb and Flag beforehand. The Stellions and Penelope were all outside helping, which seemed mostly to take the form of encouragement and cheerleading, though George took a practical role, measuring distances and lending a hand with tent ropes. He addressed everyone by name and did a lot of back-slapping. When Gina went out, the girls were laughing loudly at something Tom had said; he was standing on a ladder, hammering a pole into the edge of the lawn.

‘We can hang the bunting, if you like, Mr Arnold?’ said Diana.

‘Thanks, Miss Stellion. That’d be a help,’ said Tom. ‘Just secure it to the nail at the top of the pole and it’ll do nicely.’

‘Gina, you can give us a hand, too, if you like? There’s miles of it,’ said Penelope.

Penelope Turner was very friendly, and she and Diana had asked her opinion on various aspects of the fête. Both a few years older than Gina, they rather took her under their wing, expressed admiration of her housekeeping role at such a young age, and thanked her very nicely whenever she did anything for them. Gina knew they were merely being kind although they were also quick to dismiss her when she’d done as they’d asked, especially Diana. Gina still didn’t understand why a pretty young woman like Penelope would put up with being called Piggy, though.

‘How many poles are there, Mr Arnold?’ called Diana.

‘Fifteen all told,’ said Tom. ‘I’ve three more to put up.’

‘So, let’s see. If I measure the bunting and we divide it by fifteen, then we’ll know how loosely to hang it.’

‘But if there are fifteen poles, there are fourteen gaps,’ Gina pointed out. ‘We need to anchor it to the first pole, then the first stretch goes to the second pole.’

‘Good grief. You are clever,’ said Diana, raising an eyebrow. ‘I shall bear that in mind.’

‘I think you should be in charge and we’ll just do as we’re told,’ said Penelope, smiling at Gina with genuine admiration. ‘I don’t think I’m clever enough to be able to divide by fourteen.’

‘Neither am I,’ said Gina. ‘Never mind, we can always adjust it when we’ve got it up. As long as the end reaches the last pole, I reckon no one’ll be measuring.’