Cindy Rella/Breakfast

In the kitchen, Fanny, the kitchen maid/cook/general dogsbody, is bustling around cooking up the breakfast porridge. The kitchen is huge, a reminder of the days when the Baron was wealthy and employed dozens of staff, but now only one corner is used. There is a wooden table, scrubbed white and half a dozen chairs.

Old Cocky, the groom comes in, smelling of horse manure and sits down at one end of the table. Nobody knows how old Old Cocky is, but everyone knows that he prefers horses to people.

Buttons, his daughter is already shovelling porridge into her mouth. Buttons is about twelve or thirteen years old (nobody knows for sure) and, as usual, with her short hair, baggy shirt and short trousers, she looks more like a boy.

"We used to get bacon and eggs for breakfast," Buttons grumbles. "If the Baron put more effort into getting his lazy tenants to pay their rent and less into trying to snag a wealthy heiress, things would be a lot better around here."

Little Dick wanders in and sits down. "The Baron says we've got visitors coming and I've got to tidy up the front of the castle," he says, and then concentrates on his porridge.

"Any idea who," Buttons asks. Everyone shakes their heads.

"It's Old Soldiers day-to-day," you say. You look across at Buttons. "You going to give me a hand?"

Buttons shrugs. "I suppose so; it's that or mopping and dusting."

• The old soldiers