They didn’t return to the house until it was time for lunch and Amber was delighted when Charlotte ate everything that was offered to her. It was very clear that she, at least, was happy to be home again and the fresh air had clearly done her good. Or was it because she was with her father again? Amber wondered.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Barnaby made another appearance but Charlotte was having an afternoon nap so he didn’t wish to disturb her.

‘I’ll call back after dinner,’ he told Amber. Then taking a deep breath he said, ‘I’m afraid the constable from the village has just called to say that they have recovered a woman’s body from the harbour. The description he gave sounds suspiciously like Mrs Ruffin and I have to go and identify it.’

‘Oh no!’ Becky started to cry softly.

‘How awful,’ Amber said sadly and then she shocked herself when she volunteered, ‘Would you rather I did it?’

Without even having to think about it he nodded vigorously. ‘I would be extremely grateful if you would. I’ll accompany you in the carriage, of course, but I’m afraid I’m not very good at this sort of thing. Could you be ready in half an hour?’

Amber nodded. ‘Yes, I’ll wait for you down in the hall.’

After he’d left, Becky frowned at her. ‘Are you sure you want to do this? I mean . . . it ain’t goin’ to be very nice, especially if it is Mrs Ruffin.’

Amber shrugged. ‘It’s the least I can do for her, she was always very kind to me.’ But deep down she was hoping that it wouldn’t be Mrs Ruffin.

As promised, she was downstairs waiting for Mr Greenwood at the agreed time, very conscious of the fact that she didn’t have a black gown to wear – her grey one would just have to do.

‘May I ask where she is?’ she asked when he had followed her into the carriage and they were on their way into town.

‘She’s in the morgue at the undertaker’s.’ Barnaby shook his head as if he couldn’t take it in. ‘I know she adored Louisa but surely her death wouldn’t make Mrs Ruffin take her own life?’

‘Perhaps she didn’t take her own life,’ Amber pointed out. ‘Perhaps she was so upset that she slipped into the water.’

He nodded. ‘It is possible, I suppose. But we’ll never know, will we? Unless foul play is suspected of course.’

They travelled the rest of the way in silence and once they reached the market square where J. Hackett, the undertaker’s, was situated, Amber climbed down from the carriage telling him, ‘Stay there if you want. I’ll be fine on my own.’