One side of Howard’s face curled up in a smile. ‘How long have you got? I could write a book this thick about that,’ he said, signalling a weighty tome with his hands. ‘It changed the entire fabric of the county overnight. It divided the community. Families, even. We went from being a rural farming county to a tourist hotspot in the space of months. I’ve lived in Rutland all my life. I can remember what it was like back then. Hardly ever had anyone from outside come into the county. Nowadays, you’ll be hard pushed to find a Rutlander in Rutland.’ Caroline and Dexter shared a look, which Howard seemed to notice immediately. ‘Oh. No, I didn’t mean… Not in a racist way, I mean.’

‘It’s fine,’ Dexter said. ‘I’m from Leicester, anyway, so I didn’t take it personally. You meant those dodgy London types, right?’

Howard smiled, pleased he’d managed to wriggle out of that one. ‘Well, I think it’d be fair to say we wouldn’t have places like this if we were still a county of farmers. I moan about it, but it’s a great town to be an old duffer in nowadays.’

Dexter laughed. ‘Have you always lived in Oakham, then?’

‘No, only for the past fifteen years or so. Lived in a few of the villages in my time. Never outside the county, though.’

Caroline was no expert on local history, but even she knew that Rutland hadn’t even existed as a county between 1974 and 1997. She would have put money on Howard Smallwood having point-blank refused to use the word “Leicestershire” in his address for those twenty-three years. ‘Still, times change, eh?’ she said, having a bit of fun with this. ‘As you say, it wouldn’t be sustainable now. At least it’s all given the county a new lease of life.’

‘Oh, indeed. The history society does as well as it does because of what Rutland is,’ Howard said, as Caroline tried to make sense of those words through her pounding headache. ‘Lots of people come here for Rutland Water and fall in love with the place. That means a lot more people who’ve got an interest in the history of the area. It’s all about how you look at things, isn’t it? I mean, to look at me now, you wouldn’t think there’s a lump the size of an olive pushing on my brain, ready to kill me at any moment, would you?’

‘Uh, no,’ Caroline said, looking at Dexter. ‘No, that’s not something I would have guessed. Sorry to hear that.’ She wriggled slightly, trying to avoid the uncomfortable pause. ‘So what happened when Rutland Water was created? Did they literally just dam the area off and flood it?’