‘Well, I’m sorry to say it Isobel, but this Louise woman has never gone away, in Ann’s head at least.’

‘That bitch!’ Isobel put both hands flat on the table and pressed down, as though to squash something. ‘I’m sorry but there isn’t another description I can think of. When she was unwell, Louise used Ann like her personal servant. She would send her to get things from me in the kitchen instead of ringing the bell like any normal person. As soon as Ann was settled to read a book or draw a picture, she would be interrupted and sent on an errand. The poor girl got no peace at all. Ann would sometimes sit here in the kitchen where you are sitting right now and ask me questions. “Isobel, am I an impossible child? Am I an awful girl?” And I would say no, of course. And then one day I asked her who was saying these things to her, I think she was about eleven years old then. She said it was Louise. I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t believe her, because what mother speaks to her daughter like that? I just thought she was lying because she was in trouble over something. I mean, all children tell tales, you know?’

He nodded.

‘I didn’t understand until one day when I was carrying the tea things through to the drawing room. I must have been particularly soft-footed that day, so I heard it with my own ears. It was to do with Ann’s name. Louise told her that she was an awful child, and that she was just an inconvenience. She was using her name as a weapon against her.’ Isobel stood up and began to put the dry goods away in their labelled jars. ‘I don’t think she would want me to have told you about it, though. It’s been a secret all these years.’

‘I won’t say anything, I promise. I do sometimes think there have been too many secrets in this house. Perhaps it’s time to bring them out into the daylight where they can be seen for what they are.’ He got to his feet. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. I think tea is in order.’

As he spoke, the back door opened and Ann walked in, chilled from the wind.

‘Oh, you’re here at last,’ said Isobel, trying to bring some normality to the situation. ‘I was wondering about making a sly cake for our visitor tomorrow, or do you think just parkin will be enough?’ She looked at Keith’s Fair Isle hat, still pulled down haphazardly on Ann’s head.