It was a long time before I got to sleep myself, my heart breaking for both the girl and for the baby’s parents. She didn’t seem capable of doing anything so shocking, and all I could think was that it had to have been a single moment of madness.

Now it’s morning, though, and a working day. Apparently every day is a working day.

I still know nothing about the other woman, the third Judith. She won’t talk. If ever I get her alone, she just says that her time is coming, that she will soon be free. I don’t know what she means, and I’m not ready to ask yet. She went for a treatment late last night and was gone for a long time. I fell asleep and didn’t hear her come back. She is here now, though, and in a few minutes we will be summoned up into the house to clean. My duties are restricted to the ground floor. I don’t think they trust me with the bedrooms yet.

I’m playing a game, pretending to be under the influence of Thea’s potions. But I’ve ingested nothing that will affect my conscious mind for a while now, and as my brain starts to function normally I am becoming increasingly anxious. One minute I’m grateful to Thea and Garrick for their help in saving me from arrest. The next, I distrust them completely because of the drugs and the spy cameras. I can’t make sense of it.

I hear the buzzer go, and this time I know it’s not the signal to return to our rooms. I join the other two as we trudge upstairs to start the morning’s cleaning. I have to do the drawing room today, and I lower my head and shuffle slowly along as the others do, making my way towards what always struck me as such a beautiful, restful room. It will be the first time I’ve been back there since I was moved to the basement. Last time I was there – my life before, as I now think of it – I had sherry with Thea and the doctor. Life had seemed dreadful then, but it was nothing compared to this.

The three of us go to a storeroom where there are trays set out with all that we will need – dusters, polish, hand brushes, glass cloths – and the other two head for the stairs. Laden with the tools of what is now my trade, I slowly walk barefoot along the hall towards the drawing room. It is just as beautiful as I remember, and for a moment I wander around, touching some of the lovely items. I can’t help being drawn to the decanters and wonder if I could risk sneaking a small sherry. I hated it when I first came here, but after a few days it became something of a lifeline.