Mrs and Mr Young stood as they approached the table. Prue could see that Agapantha inherited her fiery hair and red cheeks from her dad. Her mum had the same pointed chin and amber eyes, and she had a neatness to her blouse and trousers which, with an ache to her heart, reminded Prue of her own mum.

“Ah, here they are!” said Mrs Young. “We’ve missed you so much, Ag!”

They both embraced Agapantha warmly.

“These are my friends from the Guild, er … Frances Haywood and Edwin Snow-Moon.”

Mr Young laughed. “Oh, Ag, for a minute I thought you’d forgotten your friends’ names!”

Mrs and Mr Young fussed over them, making sure everyone was happily seated and had drinks and food, even ensuring Edwin had a plate and cup even though he wouldn’t be eating. “We want you to feel part of the evening, dear.” Mrs Young smiled.

“How are things in Gawthorpe?” asked Agapantha.

“Well, technology is taking some extraordinary twists and turns. Between us, I think it’s highly likely a personifate Guild will be opening at some point in the near future,” said Mrs Young.

“Really? But I thought the technology was exclusive and patented to Master Woolstenbury and Medlock,” said Prue.

Mrs Young nodded. “It is, but they are developing their own theories, presumably in different ways.”

Prue thought of the stag-man in the woods. Perhaps it was just an extreme deterrent against spies, or perhaps it was something from a rival city?

“Where do you work in Gawthorpe, Mr and Mrs Young?” Edwin asked.

“We’re at the MMD,” said Mr Young.

“That’s the Mechanimal Model Development,” added Agapantha.

“Oh, I’ve heard of that. Our mentor worked there before he joined the Guild,” said Prue.

Mr Young sat forward. “How wonderful, what’s his name? Mia has worked there for fifteen years, she’ll probably know him.”

“Come now, Archibald! You make me sound like I’m dreadfully nosy, which I am of course.” Mrs Young laughed.

“He’s called Craftsman Primrose, Charles Primrose.”

Mrs Young looked thoughtful for a moment. “The name doesn’t seem at all familiar, I’m afraid… No, I’m quite sure, I don’t know him. Perhaps he worked for the MMV, the Mechanimal Model Vicinity?”

“Yes, sorry, it must be, perhaps he said that.”

They ate and chatted mechanics and invention. They were warm and friendly, and the sort of people Prue thought her parents would like.

Prue excused herself to visit the bathroom, but on the way, she heard a voice she knew too well; Cora. She and Larkin were sitting at a table in the next room with their parents. Prue ducked behind a leafy plant.

“We’ll have to have words with the Governor. If they start having anyone as apprentices, they’ll lose all credibility,” Mrs Duval was saying.