Gwen stops in surprise as the young woman addresses her. She could have allowed Gwen to pass by without comment, but instead she catches her before she disappears around the bend. Now that she boldly reveals herself, Gwen sees it is none other than Helen Allingham.

‘Is your little boy all right?’

‘Yes – no thanks to your husband.’

‘I’m sorry about what happened. You’ll be pleased to know we got into a frightful row about it.’

It is clear without need for careful examination that she has indeed been crying, but there is more damning evidence on Helen Allingham’s face than silken tear tracks. Her lip is split at the edge and a stark red blemish mars her porcelain complexion. Gwen looks upon her, appalled. Helen Allingham’s fingers instinctively rise to the damage. She averts her gaze to the field beside her.

‘So, it turns out your husband came back after all.’ Her tone is sharp but it contains an intriguing undernote that prevents Gwen from walking away, as instinct tells her to.

‘You didn’t think he would?’

‘Gordon was so sure.’

‘And you thought I was lying?’

‘You still could be. Just because your husband came back doesn’t mean he’s Tom’s father.’ Her bruised face takes on a sly look. ‘Perhaps he has come back because he loves you … and because of that, he is prepared to love Tom too – just as I am willing to do, if Tom is Gordon’s.’

‘Well, he’s not.’

Helen shrugs, as if the debate fails to interest her now. ‘All I wanted was a child …’ she says quietly.

‘You can’t have mine.’

‘I can’t have any now.’ She is curdled by bitterness and makes no attempt to conceal the fact.

‘You could adopt,’ Gwen says, coming forward. ‘Plenty of children need homes.’

‘I told you before, I couldn’t take in a stranger. I could have accepted Tom.’ Helen glances back at her, before returning her gaze to the field. ‘You should have let me have him, you know, regardless. Do you know the kind of life I could have given him? The royal family are often guests of my parents. I myself have shot grouse beside the Duke of Windsor.’

‘Tom doesn’t need that type of life. Connections don’t enrich anyone … love does.’

‘Love,’ Helen snorts.

‘Yes, love … don’t you love Gordon?’

‘I was charmed by him. We were a good match, that was the important thing.’

‘What? You with your five thousand acres and him with his ten?’

‘Eight,’ she corrects sharply. ‘And yes, things like that do matter and they can make all the difference.’

‘Money can’t buy you everything, though, can it?’

‘It can’t buy me a natural child of my own, if that’s what you’re getting at. You like rubbing my nose in it, don’t you?’

‘Did you ever love him, Gordon?’