What title? I thought. Was she a dame or something on top of all this? She’d said something about it before but I’d thought she was joking. Apparently not.

‘It’s a terrible burden really,’ Clio continued. ‘It costs a fortune to run – you really can’t imagine. That’s why we’ve had to open it up for weddings and things. Not all of it, of course. The public just get to see a few of the reception rooms, the main staircase and what have you.’

I couldn’t quite take it in. The main staircase? Was there more than one? I supposed there must be, given how many rooms a place this size would have. It was like Downton Abbey.

‘I’m very lucky, really,’ Clio continued, but her tone of voice didn’t quite match her words. ‘Anyway, let’s go in.’

So we all trooped in, following Clio through the huge front door into a magnificent hallway with a black and white chequered floor. A marble table sat in the centre holding an immense flower arrangement that must have cost hundreds of pounds, I calculated, given the price of fresh flowers in the supermarket. And there it was, the ‘main staircase’, made of a richly polished wood, twisting upwards like something from a film set to the first floor. I heard Poppy gasp.

Clio led us from room to room: the drawing room, the sunroom, the family room, the library, the small dining room, the large dining room and then to a conservatory with French doors out on to a huge terrace. Beyond, I could see formal gardens all laid out with neatly trimmed hedges and a spectacular fountain.

Noah was tugging at my hand and pulling me towards the open French windows.

‘Do you want to go outside and run around, Noah?’ asked Clio.

Noah, eyes wide and shining, nodded at her frantically.

‘Shall I go with him?’ asked Poppy. ‘Make sure he doesn’t get into a fight with a peacock or anything.’

I pulled a face at her, but Clio seemed to think it was all hilarious. I couldn’t tell whether she hadn’t picked up on Poppy’s rudeness or was just politely ignoring it.

‘Okay, as long as Clio doesn’t mind,’ I said, raising my eyebrows at Poppy to let her know that I was on to her. ‘But don’t break anything. If in doubt, don’t even touch it,’ I added, but Clio was shaking her head.

‘Oh, really don’t worry. They can’t do worse than Hector and I have done and no doubt countless children before us, and nothing’s really valuable.’ She leant on the word ‘really’ and I couldn’t help thinking that it was all relative and that I couldn’t afford to replace anything that might get broken, no matter how trivial Clio thought it.