That got her thinking about Gina. If Gina could just manage to behave herself … Such a worry, that girl. Sacked from the shop and now sacked from the farm, though Nancy and Albert Beveridge had kind hearts and almost limitless patience! Dora decided it must be the miserable weather this morning that was causing her to dredge up all these gloomy thoughts.

Still feeling low, she took her floral-print crossover pinny from its hook, tied it on and went to fetch her dusters from the cleaning cupboard. With a deliberate effort she put her worries out of her mind, assumed the smiling face of Mrs Arnold, the competent domestic, wished Mrs Bassett a cheery good morning as she passed the kitchen and ascended the stairs to begin work.

This morning it was the turn of the rooms on the west-facing corridor to get a clean. She enjoyed her work, for all it was physically hard and menial. She was proud of keeping the Hall looking good, proud that the Stellions relied on her and appreciated her efforts. She had no education to speak of, so domestic work suited her just fine, and she couldn’t envisage life outside Little Grindle. She had everything she wanted. Well, almost.

Dora finished cleaning the little library, leaving it smelling of lavender polish. She was taking the vacuum cleaner down the corridor to Mr Stellion’s study when she thought she heard the sound of running water. That must be the rain falling. It had continued unusually heavily this morning. She thought Tom would have found Nell something to do under cover, and Gina was quite capable of disobeying any instructions to go out if it didn’t suit her.

Now she could hear quite a loud splashing sound. It would be irresponsible not to make sure everything was all right. She left the vacuum cleaner outside the study door and continued down the corridor in the direction of the watery noise, which by now she could tell was coming from the conservatory. She opened the door and …

‘Oh, good heavens!’ she exclaimed.

Water was pouring through the roof! A huge puddle had formed on the floor and was flowing – actually flowing – towards the door, threatening to flood into the corridor.

Dora shut the door and ran as fast as she could to find Mrs Thwaite.

Gina was playing with Coco in the dry of one of the outbuildings, encouraging him to jump over a little hurdle she’d made of a broom handle between bricks, when Ellen arrived at the door, rain running off her mac and sou’wester.

‘Gina, you’re to take Coco inside now and come and help us. Mrs Stellion says so. The conservatory’s flooding and we’re all needed to help clear up before the water gets in the house.’

‘What? A real live flood?’ This was exciting news in so many ways.