‘Isn’t he rich? The house sounds very grand!’

‘Grand but neglected, with just that useless cleaner coming in, and she told me he paid her half the going rate so he has to be either poor or stingy — or maybe both. But artists don’t usually have loads of money, do they?’

‘I think he’s doing all right, he’s quite well known.’ She paused. ‘It’s the weekend — Ellen hates being called then unless it’s an emergency, doesn’t she?’

‘Tough.’

‘And she’s going to be really mad if you go ahead and get pregnant and then hand your notice in! You’re her best and most reliable cook, she told me so.’

‘Double tough. Laura, you know those wartime journals of Gran’s?’

‘Yes, they sound fascinating.’

‘They’re getting even more fascinating,’ I said, and described how there seemed to be a romance forming between her and one of the patients — and my growing conviction that the Ned Martland she had once loved was Noël Martland’s younger brother.

‘It does sound likely, doesn’t it?’ she agreed. ‘It’s such a coincidence that you should be there. Really, it’s just like a novel!’

‘That’s what I thought, though I hope it’s not a tragedy, because Noël’s brother sounds like a bit of a bad lot. I’ll have even more reason to dislike Jude Martland if his uncle broke Gran’s heart!’

‘They say everyone has got a novel in them, don’t they? Only I’d have thought your grandmother’s would have been a fairly sedate Mrs Gaskell sort of affair.’

‘Yes, that’s what I’m hoping. And I don’t think I’ve got a novel in me but I might just have a recipe book — if I ever have the time to finish it,’ I added bitterly.

‘How’s it going?’

‘Not very fast so far, because there’s simply been too much to do and a constant stream of visitors. And when I’ve had a spare minute, Gran’s journals have been a bit too fascinating to resist.’

‘Well, ring me if you find out anything else interesting!’

I was getting chilly by then and only got Ellen’s answering machine when I tried her number, so I left a message on that, before heading for home.

* * *

I gave the fruit soaking in brandy a stir and it was already starting to smell delicious: you really can’t fail with that recipe.

Looking at my by now extensive to-do list, I thought I had better gird my loins and start on the rest of the cleaning, on the principle of getting done first what you least want to do.

It was already evident to me that the Jacksons, the elderly couple who had since retired, had really cared for the house. The linen cupboard, where tablecloths, runners and napkins were kept, smelt of lavender sachets and a plentiful supply of cleaning materials lined the utility-room shelves.

I filled a cream enamel housekeeper’s bucket with everything I thought I would need and carried it through to the dining room, along with the old upright vacuum cleaner and a long-handled, slightly-moulting brown feather duster.

Always start at the top of a room and work downwards: that was the lesson Gran had taught me. I dealt with the cobwebs and worked my way down the panelling, then vacuumed some of the dust out of the curtains using the extension hosepipe, set on low. I’d polished the furniture and was well into cleaning the floor when Jess suddenly appeared.

I nearly had a heart attack when I caught sight of her dark figure with its pale face standing silently in the doorway. I gave a yelp and she said, ‘Did I make you jump? I did knock, but I had Grandpa’s key, so when there was no answer, I came in. Granny sent me to see if you needed any help. Not that I like housework,’ she added mutinously.

‘Neither do I, actually, but I do like the look and smell of a fresh, clean room. It would be wonderful if you could give me a hand. I’ve nearly finished in here and I was going to do the garden hall and cloakroom next, so if you could take the feather duster and get rid of all the cobwebs in the corners first, that would be great.’

‘Oh — okay,’ she said, brightening slightly, presumably because I hadn’t immediately handed her the vacuum cleaner. Merlin followed her out — he didn’t seem to like the noise.

I finished off the floor, then took the silver candlesticks and tray through to the utility room to clean later, before going to see how Jess was getting on.

‘Merlin eats spiders,’ Jess told me. ‘I suppose he thinks they’re snacks on legs.’

‘Good, I hate them.’

Jess’s main contribution to the cleaning after that was to entertain me while I worked by telling me the details of the plot of her vampire novel, until finally I straightened my aching back and declared, ‘Lunch time, I think.’

‘You look very hot and grubby!’

‘That’s because your uncle has let his house get filthy — he should be ashamed of himself.’

‘I don’t suppose he even noticed,’ Jess said. ‘When he’s working he doesn’t, and he’s working most of the time. Even when he isn’t you can tell he’s still thinking about it. What are you having for lunch?’

‘Nothing exciting — an omelette probably. What are you having?’

‘God knows,’ she said gloomily. ‘Probably tinned soup — and I’ll be the one in charge of heating that up, because Granny’s tired today and Grandpa is hopeless.’

She got up. ‘I suppose I’d better come back tomorrow and help you make beds. That’s why Granny sent me, really, to tell you to make sure the bedrooms are aired.’

‘Beds?’

‘Granny said it would be much more convenient if we all stayed on Christmas night.’

‘Convenient for who?’ I said, startled. I was sure they’d only been coming for lunch when Mo and Jim were doing the catering and I don’t remember any previous mention of staying over. .

‘For you, of course, so you won’t have to drive us back to the lodge. And they’ve told Auntie Becca that Christmas lunch was on again, so she’s coming too.’

‘What — to stay?’

‘Yes.’ She counted up on her fingers. ‘So that’s three bedrooms, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose it is,’ I said faintly. ‘Oh, joy! And yes, you’d better come back tomorrow and help, because I expect I’ll now have to clean the bedrooms before I can make the beds up.’

I’d have to revise my menu plan, too, if I was catering for rather more than just Christmas lunch! It was just as well the warmth from the big log fire in the hall was permeating all the rooms upstairs and airing them — except for the owner’s Bluebeard’s chamber, of course. If that was damp and dank and chilly when he got back, that would be his own fault.

‘Your Uncle Jude called last night, so I assume the phone is working again.’

‘Did he? I think he must like you!’

‘No, I think it’s the opposite, actually.’

‘Auntie Becca called back later to say that since Christmas was on as usual, she’d popped down to the village to tell Old Nan and Richard.’

‘Oh my God!’

‘Is that a problem?’

‘Oh no,’ I said faintly, ‘I mean, after looking forward to a quiet and restful few weeks on my own, I should be delighted that I’m now going to be cook, cleaner and general factotum for a large house-party, where everyone bar you is so elderly they’re obviously not going to be a lot of help, shouldn’t I? Whatever gave you that idea?’

She grinned. ‘I know you’re joking — and it’s going to be much more fun than last year, when Great Uncle Alex was so ill and Guy and Jude fell out over Guy and Coco flirting, though Guy flirts with everyone. Aunt Becca said she was surprised when she saw the announcement of his engagement to Coco, because although he always wanted whatever Jude had, he lost interest once he’d got it.’

That seemed very acute of Becca. ‘A bit of a Cain and Abel syndrome?’ I asked, interested, but she looked blank.

‘I hate Guy, he’s always winding me up and he never buys me a present either, just gives me money.’

‘That is a present, it just means he has no idea what you want.’

‘Jude usually gives me a present even if sometimes it’s a bit weird. But I don’t suppose he even thought of it this time, dropping everything and rushing off like that.’

‘He said he sent hampers to Old Nan and Richard, so I’m sure he will have remembered.’

‘You know,’ she said with an air of one making a major discovery, ‘I like Jude much better than Guy, even if he is grumpier! If he says he’ll do something, he does. And when he’s home, he lets me go and mess about in the studio with modelling clay sometimes and he’s going to teach me to weld, too.’

‘Well, that’s certainly a life skill that not a lot of girls your age have.’

She jumped up. ‘Look at the time! I’d better go, or Granny will be trying to open that tin herself.’

‘I’ll bring you some homemade soup down tomorrow,’ I promised. ‘I usually have a big pot of it permanently on the go and top it up every day, but I just don’t seem to have had a minute since I arrived, so there isn’t enough at the moment.’

Making more soup and having a good turn-out of the kitchen cupboards occupied most of the rest of the day, and no call from Jude Martland marred my peace. . until he rang really late, just as I was thinking about bed.

‘I emailed your boss at Homebodies and asked her how much you charged for your cooking,’ he said without any preamble. ‘My God, I don’t know who can afford those wages!’

‘I expect she gave you the weekly rate, but I told you I was expensive.’ Trust Ellen to try and get more money out of a client without even consulting me, too!

‘If you add that on top of double house-sitting rates, it’s extortionate,’ he said. ‘And you won’t be doing anything millions of women won’t be doing for their families for nothing over Christmas.’