Whilst part of Juliet wanted to shut the door in her face – sensing as she did that here was danger of some kind – another, perhaps more sensible part of her, was arguing that it might be a good idea to find out what this woman wanted.

Especially since the police were still snooping around about Terry Parker’s death. Although she was fairly sure Jasper and herself were safe enough, still … This woman had been at the party, after all. Was it possible she had seen or heard something that could come back to haunt them?

‘Fine.’ She made her decision and stepped back, allowing Phyllis to pass by her and stand in the hallway. ‘Wait here a minute,’ Juliet demanded rudely, heading into the drawing room whilst Phyllis calmly pulled off her gloves and unwrapped the scarf from around her neck.

*

It amused Phyllis to look around the anteroom. It was here that Terry had finally dragged her for their last private tête-à-tête, all but hauling her out of the party by physical force. It was also here, just in front of the grandfather clock, that he’d stuck his face so close to hers, his expression contorted by anger and hate, and hissed at her to go before she ruined everything. He’d looked so furious that she couldn’t help but kiss him hard and passionately. She’d known it would only enrage him further, knowing that he was helpless and in no position to either retaliate or make a scene.

After that contemptuous gesture, he’d literally man-handled her out the door, promising that they’d talk money later.

Yet another in a long line of promises that he’d broken, she mused grimly.

*

In the drawing room, Juliet saw at a glance that Jasper was lounging by the wireless listening to a pop programme, whilst her mother sat at her favourite table, playing a complicated game of solitaire. Mucking about with cards was one of Millie’s favourite pastimes, but Juliet couldn’t see the appeal herself.

‘Mumsy, there’s an odd woman here to see you,’ she said, but she was watching her brother as she spoke. At this provocative statement, she saw his head shoot up and swivel around to look at her and she grimaced a warning at him.

Slowly, he reached out and turned off the radio, watching her with a puzzled and questioning frown tugging at his brows.

‘What do you mean – an odd woman?’ Millie asked. Tonight she was wearing a long, warm woollen gown in various shades of purples and pinks. It had cost a good deal of money, and looked like it had. On her feet were high-heeled mule-slippers – with layers of pink feathers – that tapped annoyingly on any wooden flooring whenever she moved.

‘Juliet, I really do wish you would speak properly. What’s her name, darling?’ her mother admonished lightly.