Jane looked around her. She’d never been in such a place, and she couldn’t even see out of the small window, it was so high above her. The key turning in the lock might have incarcerated her in her cell, but it also unlocked the flood of tears that had been welling up inside her since her capture. She sat on the edge of the hard bed and sobbed. Oh God, what would her mother say? She loved her Atkinson’s store. Indeed, Jane did, just as much. She’d known how hard her grandmother had worked for the string of shops to become a success. It was her inheritance and it meant everything to her. How could Nellie Taylor have been so stupid, and how could she herself have let her be?

‘You are telling me that my Jane was responsible for this!’ Isabelle looked at Sergeant Monks in disbelief. ‘She told me she was going to the library, and that she would have no part in the stupid protest we had argued over this morning. The stupid girl!’ Isabelle watched as Bert Bannister swept the broken glass up from the High Street and made safe the window.

‘Aye, well, she wasn’t the ringleader and it wasn’t her that threw the stone, you’ll be glad to hear. But she did cause an affray, so one of my constables has taken her to the station. That will cool her down, along with the knowledge that you’ll have plenty to say, no doubt.’ Sergeant Monks looked at Isabelle. She didn’t deserve any further scandal in her life. That was why he’d tried to whisk Jane away as quietly as he could.

‘Oh, yes, Officer, I’ll have plenty to say alright. I bet it was that terrible little Nellie Taylor who was the ringleader. She drip-feeds her suffragette propaganda into our Jane’s ear whenever she can. And I was stupid enough to send Jane to Dewhurst’s for some cotton last week.’ Isabelle could have cursed. ‘Will you be pressing charges? I suppose you’ll have to.’

‘Aye, you are right – it was Nellie who threw the stone. As for Jane, I’ll see how she’s behaved, once we get back to the station. She’s not as headstrong as her partner-in-crime, so I’m hoping that a few hours in the cells will give her something to think about. I could do without the paperwork, and the last thing I want is a lot of screaming women in my station. Once I’ve brought Nellie Taylor in, I’ll more than likely have that.’ Sergeant Monks looked at Isabelle. ‘A strict talking-to from both of us should be sufficient. Let Jane stew until you’ve closed up the shop; it’ll not do her any harm.’