‘Well, let’s hope Maggie can shed some light on what happened next, where the baby is, and find out why Mrs Donato was all alone when she died. She can then help us decide what to do next. But from what you’ve said that Lady Bee and Mr Conway told you, it doesn’t sound as if poor Mrs Donato had any family around her at the end. Can’t have done, can she, poor dear? And that’s a terrible shame.’ Grace sighed and shook her head in agreement, wishing things had been different, as then she might have met Connie, and maybe been able to be there for her, if only to pop in and see her now and again, so she wasn’t all alone. Grace felt that she would have liked to have done that – made her a cup of tea and had a good chat. To have found out about her life and been a friend to her, because it seemed that they had much in common. Connie had loved to dance, too; she had written about it with such passion in her earlier diaries, only to abandon it when she had to leave London and go to the countryside, parted from her truelove and with a broken heart. In much the same way that Grace had lost sight of her own passion for dancing when Matthew broke her heart. And she was aware that her only friend was Jamie, and she had to admit that she also felt lonely sometimes. ‘Because surely if she’d family around her,’ Betty continued, ‘then they wouldn’t have left her to live like that … with just a carton of milk in the fridge, I ask you!’ And Betty let out a long puff of disapproval.

‘Yes, it’s so very sad,’ Grace nodded, knowing how important family was to Betty. Her too, had to be … why else would she take care of her mother?

‘It sure is!’ Betty agreed. ‘And that’s why it’s commendable of you to stay with your own mother. I know it’s very hard for you, dear, but she’s also very lucky to have you looking after her like you do … not many young women of your age would do it, and nobody would think less of you if you got in some help, you know, dear … or even put her in a home. There are some very nice ones now and she might be much more comfortable …’

Before Grace could respond, Larry appeared holding out his mobile phone to Betty, his face all flushed.

‘It’s Ellis. Our favourite nephew! He’s here in London,’ he said, quickly.

‘London?’ Betty put down her crochet and took the phone from him with a baffled look on her face. ‘What on earth do you mean? He lives in America.’