She tried to tug her arm free, but he wouldn’t let go. ‘So you can feel better? Well I have news for you, Joe. I don’t want you to feel better. Now let go of me or I swear I’m going to punch you.’ Her hand curled into a fist.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘I’m sorry for not being enough—’

Joe’s words were cut off by the blow Leanne landed on the side of his face. Her knuckles cracked painfully, but the punch had the desired effect, and Joe released his grip. Leanne flexed her hand as she hurried away from the marquee and plunged into the swell of the crowd.

Claudia had been replaced onstage by the Lord Mayor of Sedgefield. It had been the right decision to have Claudia speak first. The mayor’s words were drowned out by boos when he attempted to extol the bravery of the fire service. As a councillor, he had been party to the decision to close down the fire station.

Consumed by the crowd, Leanne slowed long enough to check behind her. Joe wasn’t there, but there was a face that caught her attention, if only because the woman dipped her head the moment Leanne locked eyes with her. Despite her throbbing fingers, Leanne made another fist.

Phillipa Montgomery had dressed down for the occasion, wearing jeans and a padded jacket with a fur collar that matched her hat. In her late forties, she had kept her figure and timeless looks, although Leanne imagined that without the money and the polishing, she would be quite ordinary. It was what Phillipa was hoping to pass for now. She held her collar against her cheek as if the storm still raged, but it was a pathetic attempt to conceal her identity. She appeared to be alone. Her husband Robert was six foot five and would give his wife away too easily. Leanne eyed Phillipa as an animal might its prey and took a step forward.

Aware that her cover had been blown, Phillipa backed away and turned. The crowd filled the space between them and Leanne moved sideways rather than attempting to push ahead. She moved fast, too fast for those in her way, but she rode the wave of dissent and circled Phillipa, pouncing where the crowd had thinned.

‘Leanne Pitman from the Cheshire Courier,’ she announced as she blocked Phillipa’s path.

‘I know who you are.’

‘Care to make a comment?’

‘Only that I want to be left alone.’

‘And yet here you are,’ Leanne said tersely. ‘I saw you outside the press conference too.’

‘You can’t blame me for wanting to see how people are coping. This is my town.’

Leanne mocked Phillipa with her laughter. ‘Are you sure it isn’t jealousy? Claudia Rothwell seems to have taken your crown.’