‘When we’ve sorted the horses out I’m going to take the sledge up the paddock again — do you want to come, Holly?’ invited Jess. ‘You can have the other sledge.’

‘I would have loved to, but I need to prep the vegetables for dinner and I want to put the jelly layer on the trifle,’ I said. ‘Tomorrow though, definitely. And we could bake and ice some gingerbread biscuits to hang on the tree, if you like?’

‘Oh yes, that would be fun!’

When they’d gone out I could still hear raised voices from the sitting room, despite the closed door at the end of the passage: the acoustics must be jolly good. I could make out melodramatic lines, like:

‘I broke off my engagement to Jude for you!’

‘I didn’t ask you to — it was just a bit of fun on the side until Jude walked in on us.’

‘That’s not what you said then — I thought you loved me!’

‘I’m not responsible for what you think, thank God.’

After that, I shut the kitchen door, too, and put the radio on.

I didn’t really need to start on dinner yet, now the pâté starter was in the fridge, but since it looked as though I would be alone for quite a while I took the opportunity to make my presents.

I scalded the empty jam jars from the utility room and dried them thoroughly, before filling them with sweets and covering each with a circle of cellophane topped with one cut from the red and white gingham paper napkins, held down with a red elastic band. They looked really good.

I wrapped them up and labelled them, except for a couple of extra ones I left blank for unforeseen emergencies. Then I stowed them away in the cupboard under the tea towels again, along with the bits and pieces for Jess’s stocking — assuming she was going to have one. I made a note to ask Noël or Tilda about that later.

Becca came back in, snow sparkling in her iron-grey curls. ‘It’s almost dark and still snowing out there. . and are the lights flickering, or am I imagining it?’

‘No, they do keep doing that. I hope the power isn’t going to cut off.’

‘Oh well, it does from time to time, but the generator will take over if it does. What’s happening with those two?’ She jerked her head towards the hall. ‘Still arguing?’

‘As far as I know — unless one of them has murdered the other and is out there burying the body in the snow.’

‘Ha!’ she said. She looked around her approvingly: ‘It looks different in here since you arrived — cleaner, for a start, and it’s good to see the Aga being used again.’

‘It looked like Mo had made a start on cleaning in here, but Sharon didn’t seem to have touched anything in the house at all. I can’t imagine what she did when she was here.’

‘No, she was worse than useless. I told Jude he should get another couple in to look after the place, but he said he could look after himself.’

‘It’s not that easy to find live-in staff anyway these days and very expensive if you do.’

‘True, and ones that can cook are like hens’ teeth. What’s that lovely smell?’

‘Just another quick chocolate cake — we seem to get through cake at an amazing rate!’

‘Wonderful.’ Becca cocked her head, listening for any noise from the sitting room, then said doubtfully, ‘It’s gone ominously quiet in there.’

‘I closed the kitchen door so I couldn’t hear.’

She got up and opened it again. ‘Oh yes — she’s crying hysterically now.’

‘Just as well I took more sausages out of the freezer, then,’ I said gloomily. ‘I don’t think either of them are going anywhere tonight.’

‘No, the weather’s worse out there now, so it wouldn’t be advisable until the roads are cleared and gritted in the morning.’

‘Unless we’re totally snowed in overnight, have you thought of that?’

Tilda tottered in, the heels of her velvet mules clicking on the stone floor, and sat in a wheelback chair. ‘That imbecile boy has given Coco a snifter of brandy now, to stop her crying, so there’s no getting shut of her until tomorrow!’

‘We’d just decided we weren’t going to get rid of her before morning anyway,’ I said. ‘But I suppose we’re going to need a couple more beds made up.’

Guy appeared, looking harassed, which was hardly surprising since you could hear the sound of loud, angry weeping and the occasional scream of ‘Bastard!’ all the way from the sitting room.

‘She’s got a good pair of lungs on her,’ Becca commented.

‘Things are a just a little tricky,’ Guy said, with a wry smile. ‘Coco wants to go home, only I’m not risking my car taking her down to see if hers has been towed out of the ditch yet, because it’s snowing so hard I’d never get back up again — have you looked outside recently? It’s a nuisance Jude took the Land Rover, that would have made it.’

‘You could run her back to London in your car in the morning,’ I suggested.

‘No way: I’d already told her it was all off between us, so it’s her own fault if she didn’t believe me and came up here on a fool’s errand,’ he said ungallantly.

‘So, what’s she going to do?’

‘She’ll have to stay tonight and then perhaps she can get a lift down to the village tomorrow with George when he ploughs our drive, to see if her car still works.’ He shrugged. ‘If not, perhaps she can bribe one of the boys to run her to the station instead. So,’ he said, flashing a smile of outstanding charm in my direction, ‘I wondered if you’d be an angel and make another bed up besides mine, which is the one opposite Jude’s?’

‘I haven’t made yours up,’ I said shortly, ‘nor am I going to! Presumably you know where the linen cupboard is? I’ve had the fire in the sitting room going since I got here and all the doors upstairs open to air and warm the rooms.’

He looked taken aback. ‘Oh. . right.’

‘I think Coco will have to go in the little bedroom on the nursery floor, next to Jess, which I don’t suppose she’ll be keen on. Otherwise there’s only Jude’s room, which is locked, and even Noël doesn’t have the key to that.’

Becca said, ‘It’s almost a full house!’

‘There’s the other servant’s room in this wing too, I’d forgotten that, though it’s a bit Spartan and unused looking,’ I said.

‘She wouldn’t like that at all,’ Guy said.

‘Well then, give her your room and you can have one of the others tonight,’ Becca suggested.

‘Not me! She can put up with the nursemaid’s room.’ He paused, eyeing me uncertainly, presumably for signs of weakening. ‘Well, I suppose I’d better go and do something about the beds, then,’ he said finally.

Becca got up. ‘I’ll find you the clean sheets, or God knows what you’ll be putting on them — tablecloths, probably. But after that you’re on your own, because I’ve already seen to the horses and I’m tired.’

‘You told him,’ Tilda said to me approvingly when they’d gone out. ‘He’s a good boy really, but he expects other people to carry him round all the time.’

‘I just needed to make my situation plain. I’m not a servant and I’m not going to run around after him.’

‘Of course not — we consider you as a guest, almost one of the family,’ Tilda said graciously. ‘And you are quite a good cook, dear — something smells delicious.’

‘It’s the chocolate cake,’ I explained again. ‘I’d better take it out. And if you switch the kettle on, I’ll make us some tea in a minute. There are cheese scones, too.’

‘Shop ones?’ sniffed Tilda, as I took the cake out of the oven and turned it out on the cooling rack.

‘No, ones I made myself.’

Becca returned and by unspoken agreement we had our tea at the kitchen table, leaving Coco as sole occupant of the sitting room, though I did offer her a cup of tea and a scone when I took Noël’s through to the parlour, which she rejected with evident loathing.

Tilda asked me what we were having for dinner and approved my choice of sausage and mash.

‘Good wholesome winter food!’

‘I’ve made sardine pâté for a starter. I thought we could have that in the sitting room on a tray.’

‘And what about dessert?’

‘It’s either a raspberry Eton Mess, or alternatively there are some overripe bananas that the Chirks left, so I could do cold banana custards or bananas in rum, with cream. What do you think?’

‘Oh, custards. With just a teeny sprinkle of nutmeg on each one.’

‘If you say so,’ I agreed. Along with squirty cream, nutmeg and paprika seemed to feature largely in the foodstuffs Tilda had brought from the lodge to add to the catering supplies. ‘In fact, I’d better do those now, so they will be chilled by dinner time.’

While I was making the custard, Tilda helpfully sliced up the bananas and put them in the ramekins, talking about her past glories on TV, especially her wonderful series on canapés, on the subject of which she had enlightened the nation.

‘You have no need to worry about canapés while I am here,’ she said generously.

‘Well, that’s a huge weight off my mind,’ I assured her.

‘I’d better call Jess in,’ Becca said. ‘I’d forgotten she was still sledging and it’s pitch black out there, though of course the light bounces off the snow. But she must be cold by now.’

While she went to fetch her in, I asked Tilda whether Jess was having a Christmas stocking or not.

‘She had one last year,’ Tilda said, ‘but Roz — my daughter — didn’t mention it to me, though she did leave Jess’s presents. She might have forgotten about the stocking, because she is the scattiest creature. Or perhaps Jess is too old?’

‘Mrs Comfort said they are never too old, so I got a few things from her to make one up, in case.’

‘Oh well — you carry on with that, then,’ she ordered autocratically, as Jess came in with red cheeks and covered in snow, and was sent straight back out into the passage to remove her coat and wellies.