Crowther licked his lips. “Her man will drag you through the mud.”

“You think I’ll lose.”

“I think you’ll have a fight.” He picked out a pencil from the tankard. “It’s never too late for measured judgement.”

“It’s too late to let her win,” replied Enid.

She took a bus from Gray’s Inn to Chelsea. Outside the Royal Court, she jumped off and walked quickly across Sloane Square. The First Church of Christ, built with American money and up-kept with £5 of her own, was like a sandstone ship that had lost its moorings and become wedged behind shops off Sloane Street. The door was open, the main hall was empty, it was lunchtime and no one needed prayers except her. She knelt on the floor amidst the chairs. The parquet floor was hard and dusty. She closed her eyes, but found she had nothing to say to God and God had nothing to say to her.

Finetta arrived by taxicab three days later, a suitcase in her small hand. The cabbie said, “I was told to make sure she got in safe,” and left her on the doorstep with Enid at the door, looking down at her. She took her up to the sitting room and sat her at the tea table. She put her suitcase in Ian’s room. She said to Ian, “Your sister’s here.” They didn’t say much when they saw each other, nothing at all – except Ian, who said, “Moppet,” and then shut his mouth, as if her name had fallen out by mistake. She told Peel to clean the other bedroom, and went out to buy sheets.

In that evening’s post was a letter and a bill from Shoreham.

To Miss Enid Campbell,

Term fees are usually paid in advance but I’m afraid these are in arrears as I was not notified of any change until now and these have not been paid. I understand you will meet the balance forthwith.

Fagus is doing very well and I look forward to welcoming you to our little school.

My warmest regards,

Miss L Barnes

Headmistress

The next morning a wire came from Crowther.

Courts deciding residency in the interim. Have motioned he reside with you. C

She hadn’t been to court. How was it they could decide anything? She left the children with Peel and went to see him.

“The wheels are in motion,” Crowther said.

“How long before we go before a judge?”

He laughed and puffed out his cheeks. “A while yet, madam. These things are very slow.”

“She’s sent my daughter to me.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“And a bill from my son’s headmistress.”

“It sounds like she’s handing them over.”

“Then why hasn’t she cancelled the fight?”

“She’s not after all of them,” said Crowther, “is she.”

It wasn’t a question.

❦