Her eyes widened and she jumped, as though she had put her finger into a live electric socket. Her face went even whiter and then flushed red. ‘No,’ she said.

She was.

‘I am Mrs Barker.’

‘How is Harvey?’

‘I don’t know any Harvey.’

‘You’ve been married to him for fourteen years.’

‘My husband’s name is John,’ she said coldly, trying to be matter-of-fact and not succeeding. She looked nervously at me.

I nodded and didn’t say anything.

‘Who are you?’ she asked. ‘And what do you want?’

‘I want to buy a Victorian paper-roll organ.’

‘If you come back in a couple of hours, my husband should be – er – back. He’ll be able to tell you the price.’

‘You just said he was asleep upstairs.’

‘Did I? I made a mistake. He’s out. It’s just a store room upstairs.’

‘Mind if I take a look? There might be some more interesting objects up there.’

‘No, please. Why don’t you go away and leave us? Leave us alone.’

I looked at her; there was suffering across every inch of her face.

‘Who are you?’ she asked again. ‘Why have you come here? Didn’t you people promise us a new life? New names, money to start a business, a new country? Wasn’t that the deal? Hasn’t he done enough for you? Didn’t you promise that for the rest of his life he would be left alone?’

‘Not me personally.’

‘Well – your bloody government.’

‘We’re not entirely convinced he kept to his side of the bargain. You know what they say about a sailor having a girl in every port?’

She nodded, puzzled.

‘Well, where I come from, they say that Harvey Sparrow has got a skeleton in every closet.’

Tears began to roll down her face. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ she asked.

‘No, thanks,’ I shook my head.

‘I’m sick of him, sick to death of him and this life, this place, the constant deceit. I didn’t want to go up and wake him, not because I didn’t want to disturb him, but because I’d sooner lose a sale than look at his bloody face one more time than is absolutely necessary.’ She started to weep, and sat down on the stool of a Spinning Jenny. ‘Is it wrong to speak like that about one’s husband?’

‘Not if his name’s Harvey Sparrow.’

‘I want to go back to England.’

‘You’re free to do that. It’s not you that’s upset anybody – only him.’

‘Maybe I will,’ she said, ‘maybe I just bloody will.’