‘No!’ I replied, forcefully enough to replace Becky’s grin with a look of surprise. ‘I mean, I would, another time, but I’m a bit nervous of getting stung. I wouldn’t want to do the wrong thing and make them angry.’

By a bit nervous I meant extremely anxious, but I didn’t want to seem rude and upset the D boys.

‘I’ll let you get on. But, um, Becky, I mean, if you wanted and if you’ve not got much on at the moment, then, well, I’ll be staying at the farm for a little while longer so if you were at a loose end one afternoon then you could, well…’ For goodness’ sake, Eleanor! I sounded like I was asking her out on a date. Why were words so much easier when you could write them down? ‘Anyway, what I mean to say is feel free to come over for a cup of tea anytime. Or coffee, if you don’t like tea. Or water. A drink! Any drink… well, obviously not any drink…’

Phew. I could feel myself sinking deeper into the mud.

‘A cup of tea would be lovely! Thanks so much for asking! I will do that. Probably a day when Mum’s busy so she doesn’t tag along and spoil it.’

Ziva had the gall to look affronted. ‘As if. I have my own friends, thank you very much.’

‘What, Damian and Duke and Demetrius?’ Becky smirked, making it impossible not to smile back.

‘Do be quiet, poor Eleanor will be thinking we’re completely batty, and when you come knocking for that drink she’ll pretend to be out and then where will you be? Back to being a Noreen No Mates!’

‘Well, I’d better get on and leave you to it,’ I interrupted, my face having grown so stiff with the cold I sounded like I’d just had dental surgery. ‘Really nice to meet you, Becky.’

I turned and hurried away before they could open the hive again.

‘I met Ziva and her daughter today,’ I told Daniel, later that evening after he’d put Hope to bed, then picked up a pizza from the takeaway in the village. We were eating at the kitchen table, which felt slightly awkwardly on the brink of date-like, but the only other option was me on the sofa in the study while he sat at his desk, and that was weirder. I’d had a peek in the other downstairs rooms while Hope had been in the bath – in addition to the shower room there was a spacious living room, formal dining room and rickety conservatory. There was also a utility room off the kitchen, with a door leading to the cellar. The bones of the house were stunning. The problem was they lay beneath layers of dust, grime, chipped paint, peeling wallpaper, general neglect and universal ugliness. What a total waste. I couldn’t help thinking that Charlie would be distraught, even as she’d understand and offer her brother nothing but sympathy and encouragement. Or maybe she’d send a trusted friend along to help, and she only had one of those.