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Scarlett blanks me, turning to look in the direction of the Christmas trees. She stares at them for a few moments and then points. She has long, painted nails; I can’t imagine how she rides horses with them.

‘I mean,’ she says to the camera, ‘all of those will have to go.’

The words catch me as if just tugging a rug from under me.

‘All the trees? The Christmas trees?’ I give a nervous little laugh and think of Paddy, out amongst the trees, looking at them with pride as he’d check their growth – as if he’d personally encouraged them to grow a foot taller each year and told them what good trees they were. Tears suddenly prick my eyes.

Barking erupts from inside the Audi and the car alarm goes off, spooking Gloria, who has been pecking nearby; she runs off to join the ducks.

‘Oh, settle down, Dinky,’ says Scarlett, turning back towards the vehicle and flicking the alarm off.

‘So, you’re not from around here?’ I ask Luke politely.

‘No, never been out this way,’ says Luke. ‘I worked as a driver when Scarlett’s social media started taking off. It’s how we met. I’ve not been here before. But it would be great to finally put down some roots somewhere.’ He smiles. ‘We’ve moved around a bit the last few years. But me and the countryside – well, I’m a city boy.’

The irony of the fact that it was Scarlett driving and not Luke isn’t lost on me.

‘If we lost them, we could maybe make this place work for the horses . . .’ Scarlett smiles, still pointing at the trees, as if I’m supposed to sympathize. Her phone rings, and without looking she hands it to Luke. He looks down at the screen.

‘Just junk,’ he says, handing it back to her. As she takes it, the car alarm goes off again. Luke turns to the car just as a large, young and enthusiastic silver-grey dog lets out an excited yelp and squeezes and wiggles out of the gap of the open passenger window. It gallops over to us, legs and ears flying, delighted to have escaped. The farmhouse door opens again and this time Tegan comes out crossly, barking at the youngster, followed by Willow. The big, gangly dog throws itself at him, knocking him right off his feet.

‘Dinky! Dinky!’ Scarlett calls. ‘Come here!’

I run over to Willow, but he’s already picking himself up, laughing. Actually laughing. I’d only seen the gentle pull of a smile before now, and even then, only glimpses. And now, here he is, happy while Dinky chaotically careers around the yard. I watch him laugh, and it makes me smile. Tears spring to my eyes. This is the little boy he should be, I think, and it feels like a huge breakthrough, even if it is down to a gangly, out-of-control designer dog.

Tegan, on the other hand, isn’t seeing the funny side of it and is still barking and marching up and down as the young dog bounces around, zigzagging up and down the drive and then performing zoomies in the yard, making Willow cackle even more. I feel another surge of joy.

‘Dinky!’ Scarlett shrieks. She turns and yells at Luke, ‘This dog needs training!’

‘I think it’s more you that needs training,’ he says. ‘I’ve taken her to the classes.’

‘Her recall is usually excellent!’ Scarlett snaps back. ‘It’s her hormones.’

But Dinky isn’t coming back to Scarlett, who is calling her and pointing to the ground, followed by ‘Sit, stay, lie down, settle’ – a volley of commands that are clearly falling on deaf ears.

‘Have you taken her out today?’ Luke asks. ‘Maybe she just needs some exercise.’

‘I’ve been busy. And the dog walker wasn’t available. You need to find another one. That one is useless. Says she can’t go out in the rain.’

‘Oh no,’ says Luke suddenly. ‘Dinky!’ he cries, starting towards her as she bounds back into the yard heading directly for Lara, who puts out a hand to try and stop the ebullient dog bouncing up at her. It makes no difference: Dinky launches herself through the air, her muddy paws colliding with Lara’s pristine cream wool coat, making her stumble back.

‘Whoa!’ Lara says.

‘Oh, bollocks,’ says Luke in a flat tone.

Scarlett covers her mouth, and I swear she’s covering up a laugh. Dinky has already bounced on from Lara and is heading towards one of the ducks in total abandonment.

‘Not the ducks!’ I cry out.

Luke is trying to divert her but can’t catch up. I join in the chase, as does Willow, which Dinky finds joyous. She bounds even more, trying to get the ducks to play. Gloria jumps up onto a fence post and then down into the field of trees, running off to hide amongst them. Tegan is still barking loudly, keen to tell the younger dog off as Dinky makes a huge leap towards Louie the duck. Luke lunges forward at the same time as Willow, who scoops Louie up into his arms.

‘Dinky, no!’ shouts Luke. He catches hold of the dog’s collar. She looks up at him, panting with excitement, her pink tongue lolling out of her mouth, eyes sparkling.

There’s a moment of shocked silence as we all catch our breath and then Luke says, ‘Scarlett, could you get the lead, please?’

I see Scarlett roll her eyes again, but she goes to her car, opens the door and gets out an expensive leather lead. She brings it to Luke, who places it on the dog. He catches my eye and shakes his head, clearly embarrassed.

With the excitement over, Willow strokes Louie’s head and then sets him down. Louie quacks and struts around. Once Willow is satisfied that the duck is unharmed if a little perturbed, he turns away and heads back towards the house, retreating into his shell.