‘Madge meant nothing to me. I keep telling you: she just saw me riding my motorcycle on the road to Ingleton and begged for a ride. How could I refuse her? You know what she was like. I just wish both of us had not been so foolish.’ James looked out of the window, unable to keep eye contact with her. He knew she knew that he was lying.

‘So that’s why all the locals are talking about you calling at Madge’s door at all hours of the day and night. And I suppose there is a valid reason for all the staff at Atkinson’s to be smirking and talking about your little tête-à-têtes with Madge behind my back. I must have been blind and stupid!’ Isabelle pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her eyes. ‘This isn’t the first time a man thinks that I’m too stupid to realize what’s going on under my nose. But this time it’s not going to get the better of me.’

‘I don’t think you are stupid. Honestly, there was nothing going on. People gossip, you know that. They put two and two together and make six. I just wish poor Madge was still alive to back me up. I’d do anything for her to be here, standing now in front of us both.’ James sighed and tried to get comfortable in his invalid chair as he gingerly moved his splintered leg.

‘I bet you do. I suppose you’d rather it was me they were burying on Tuesday, and not Madge. That would have been more convenient for you.’ Isabelle breathed in deeply, waiting for the next round of attack.

‘The funeral’s set for Tuesday then. I must try and go.’ James looked down at his broken leg.

‘You will not even think of it. You’ve brought enough disgrace to this house, without showing up at her funeral. I personally hope she’s rotting in hell, the little hussy. I gave her a good job, paid her well and gave her responsibilities. But no, Madge was not happy with that; she wanted my husband and, like a fool, he fell for her charms. To think that I even let you go to Leeds together. I bet, if I checked, there would be a room for that date at the Queens booked in your name. I’ll go to the funeral. I’ll hold my head up high and suffer the indignant looks that people will give me. We owe her parents that much at least.’