Desmond Berwick smoothed the moustache onto the top of his lip and checked that his hairpiece was secure. He placed the glasses on the tip of his nose and turned sideways in the mirror before scanning the full-page advertisement for this year’s garden party event. So many waiters, so much tea to be served. So fortunate that he’d learned a trick or two during his recent time away.

He peered through the gap in the curtains. The car out the front had been sitting there for the past three days. If that fellow worked for him, he’d have been sacked a long time ago. Bentley had walked past the vehicle twice yesterday and the dopey chap hadn’t even glanced up from his magazine. Talk about making yourself conspicuous.

Desmond strode out the back door and around to the carport. Dear Mrs Mogg, the woman who owned the shop next door, was such a kind soul. When he’d mentioned that he had got a job working at the garden party but no way of getting there, the sweet lady had offered to loan him her husband’s old banger. Clyde was minding the shop for the day while Mrs Mogg was leaving early to help out at the Hall, so he was welcome to it. Mustard-brown wasn’t exactly Desmond’s colour of choice, but as long as he could get where he needed to go, he didn’t care.

Desmond puttered out of the Moggs’ driveway and nodded to the chap out the front. The man looked up from his newspaper and nodded back.

It didn’t take long to reach Highton Hall and it certainly wasn’t hard to find. Desmond flashed his ID and was directed to park in an area cordoned off for staff.

‘You’ll need to report to Mrs Oliver. She’s in the marquee on the front lawn and will point you to whichever team you’re part of,’ a fellow advised.

Desmond drove through and parked the car. He hopped out and stood there for a moment, taking in his new surroundings. A chirpy young woman got out of the car beside him and smiled.

‘Hi there,’ she said. ‘Beautiful day for it.’

‘It certainly is,’ Desmond replied, grinning. In just a few hours, he would have what he needed and be gone. His silly sister could weep all she wanted, but he hadn’t worked this hard for this long to end up broke and slaving away at some dead-end job for the rest of his life.

Desmond followed a trail of workers to the marquee, where a sturdy woman with a lilting Irish accent was giving instructions, and soon found himself setting tables. He hoped he would be able to get out of there and find a way into the main house. Chessie could have been anywhere, but her belongings were bound to be inside. It was fortunate Mrs Mogg had mentioned having met the girl at Highton Hall, where she was staying with some brat called Alice-Miranda for the weekend. He wondered what Jemima was playing at, keeping Chessie away from him. As luck would have it, it wasn’t long before the Irish woman asked him to fetch some more cakes from the kitchen.

‘Have you seen anyone that looks like your uncle?’ Millie asked as the girls wandered about the stalls.

Chessie shook her head. ‘Maybe he’s not coming. Mummy and Miss Plunkett might’ve got it wrong.’

‘Why don’t we just have a lovely time?’ Alice-Miranda suggested. ‘Granny’s due soon with Aunty Gee, who’s coming especially for the relaunching of the foundation. I can’t wait to see them both.’

Millie turned to Chessie. ‘Don’t worry, Aunty Gee’s the best. She’s really funny and she loves to dress up too. And she sent me this beautiful bracelet for helping Alice-Miranda when she had her accident.’ Millie held out her arm, showing off the little gold band.

Chessie wondered why Millie was cautioning her about the old woman and, on the contrary, felt slightly alarmed.

‘There’s Aunt Charlotte and the twins,’ Alice-Miranda said, leading the way over to them.

‘Asmanda!’ Imogen bleated. She had Rodney clamped under one arm in a headlock.

Chessie looked at the toy and felt a pang in her chest.

‘I am so sorry, sweetheart,’ Charlotte apologised. ‘I have tried to get her to give him up, but she has a complete meltdown each time. I’ve never known her to be so attached to anything. I promise he won’t be coming with us when we leave tomorrow. Alice-Miranda told me Rodney is yours and I feel terrible that my little monster has hijacked him.’

Chessie smiled graciously. ‘I should be able to cope for another few hours, although I must admit I’ve rarely been apart from him since I was about Imogen’s age. My uncle gave him to me and he’s the thing I’ve always loved best in the world.’

An idea sparked in Alice-Miranda’s mind. Could that possibly be it?

‘We’re on our way to get ice-cream. Do you want to come?’ Charlotte asked.

‘I’ll pass this time,’ Millie said. ‘We just had some a while ago.’

‘Have fun, girls. I think these two will be needing a nap soon,’ Charlotte said, then headed off in search of the icy treats.

Alice-Miranda could see Daisy Rumble walking towards them and gave a small wave.

‘Hi there, girls,’ Daisy said. ‘Are you enjoying yourselves?’

‘Oh, yes,’ the trio chorused. For a moment, they had almost forgotten about SPLOD and Chessie’s uncle.

In the distance Millie spotted Dottie Treloar. She was holding Leo’s hand while Mr Treloar was carrying Martha. The children were in high spirits, but Mr Treloar and the woman beside him looked as if they’d stepped out of the car and into something unpleasant.

‘Whoa,’ Millie whispered. ‘Did they just lose the lottery?’

Chessie bit her lip. She had been thinking the same thing herself.

‘What are you talking about?’ Daisy spun around. ‘Oh, Dr Treloar was in an awful mood when I saw her last night. I have to say I wasn’t impressed with some of the things she was saying about your father, Alice-Miranda.’

Alice-Miranda frowned and wondered how Dr Treloar would even know her father.

Daisy eyed the crowd swarming in front of the pancake stand and hoped they hadn’t run out of maple syrup already. ‘Sorry, girls, I’d better get back to it,’ she said, and hurried away before Alice-Miranda could ask her what she’d meant.

‘Mayday, mayday,’ Millie mumbled under her breath. ‘Grumpy parents incoming.’ She motioned to the Treloars, who were headed their way.

‘Hello Mr Treloar.’ Alice-Miranda grinned at the man, then turned to his wife. ‘You must be Dr Treloar. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you very much, not only because of your delightful children but because you solved the problem with the Kennington’s plant and you have made Mummy and Daddy so happy.’

Alice-Miranda held out her hand, but the woman simply stared at it. Bentley, in turn, glared at his wife.

‘Alice-Miranda, I’ve got a present for you!’ Leo rushed forward and handed her a piece of paper, which was folded in a very four-and-a-half-year-old way.

‘For me?’ She opened the page and smiled at the drawing.

‘That’s you and that’s me and that’s the palace where you live,’ he said proudly, pointing at each one of the figures on the piece of paper.

Alice-Miranda gave the boy a hug. ‘It’s gorgeous, Leo. I love it. Thank you.’

‘L-Leo, where did you get that piece of paper?’ his father asked. Small beads of perspiration peppered the man’s brow.

‘The shed,’ the boy replied.

‘But you’re not allowed in there,’ Bentley said through gritted teeth. ‘I’ve told you a hundred times before.’

Leo’s bottom lip trembled and tears started to well in his eyes.

The man turned to Alice-Miranda and smiled. ‘It’s a lovely picture, but I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I took that back. It’s a rather important document,’ he said, reaching for it.

Adrienne pushed away her husband’s hand as Leo began to wail. ‘For goodness sake, Bentley, let the girl have it. It can’t be anything of vital significance.’

Alice-Miranda felt a strange stab of familiarity. ‘Have we met before, Dr Treloar? I’m usually quite good at recalling acquaintances, but I’ve recently suffered a bump on the head and I’m afraid my memory may be letting me down …’ She peered up at the woman. ‘Perhaps we met at the children’s hospital in Chattering.’

Adrienne shook her head firmly. ‘I am one-hundred-per-cent certain we haven’t. I would remember. It was lovely to meet you, but I think we’d best be going. Dottie wants an ice-cream.’

The man hesitated, then reluctantly scurried away after his wife.

‘Well, that was weird,’ Millie said, wrinkling her nose.

Chessie nodded in agreement. ‘No wonder those kids loved coming here all week.’

‘Let’s go and find Jasper and Poppy,’ Millie suggested, heading off in their direction. ‘I think they’re helping Heinrich with the farmyard in the walled garden.’

‘Okay,’ Chessie said, scratching at the microphone. It was awfully itchy for such a tiny thing.

Alice-Miranda turned Leo’s drawing over in her hand. On the other side was what looked to be scrawls of chemical symbols and scientific formulas. The piece of paper must have belonged to Bentley Treloar. She was happy to return it to him when she could catch him on his own. Alice-Miranda began to fold Leo’s drawing when she noticed some words at the bottom of the page. She studied them for a moment, a shiver running down her spine.

‘Alice-Miranda, are you coming?’ Millie called.

‘I’ll meet you there,’ she shouted back.

Millie shrugged and carried on with Chessie by her side. They made their way to the farmyard, where Jasper and Poppy were busy looking after a menagerie of animals. There were lambs, chicks, rabbits and ducklings. Poppy’s friend Clementine Rose was there too. Millie introduced her to Chessie and then to the girl’s great-aunt Violet, who was fascinated to hear that Chessie’s mother was the new Lady Tavistock. Millie soon found herself rescuing an embattled hen that was almost being loved to death by an overly enthusiastic toddler.

‘It’s been lovely to meet you,’ Chessie said to Clementine and her great-aunt, ‘but please excuse me. I need to go to the toilet.’

‘You’ll be waiting a while, my dear.’ Aunt Violet nodded towards the long line at the portable loos that had been installed at the bottom of the garden.

Chessie grimaced. ‘Oh, I don’t think I can hold on that long. I’ll just run back to the house.’ She deposited a bunny over the fence and into the pen. ‘I’ll only be a few minutes, Millie,’ she called, and hurried out of the enclosure.

‘Hello Chessie, what are you doing back here?’ Alice-Miranda asked as the girl flew into the kitchen.

Upon hearing the name, Desmond Berwick looked up from the bench. The sweet little girl had grown. But of course children have a habit of doing that.

Chessie grinned and waved hello without stopping. ‘Need the toilet and the lines were crazy,’ she explained, rushing to the downstairs loo.

Chessie quickly went about her business, then adjusted her dress. She realised that the microphone Miss Plunkett had stuck to her chest had come loose. She’d have to get some more tape and ask Alice-Miranda to help put it back on.

Inside Hugh’s study, an agent winced as the microphone screeched in his ear. ‘Kids,’ he groaned, ‘should not wear wires.’

As Chessie exited the powder room, she noticed a waiter hovering at the end of the hallway. He probably had to use the bathroom too. The sound of people echoed from somewhere in the house and she realised that Cecelia must have started the tours.

Chessie walked back down the hallway and, as she passed the man, she felt a frisson between them. He grabbed her arm and the tiny microphone fell to the floor.

‘Hello Francesca,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Come with me.’