‘As a bleeding doornail, and your father and the twins were pulled in not an hour ago. I just had a call from their brief. I warn you now, girl, if anything comes of this I’ll be up on a bleeding murder charge. Yours! Now get out of that bed, it’s nearly lunchtime, and at least try and act like the grieving girlfriend, for your father’s sake if not your own!’

With that Bernadette slammed from the room.

Delia lay in the bed, shocked into wakefulness. Jimmy was dead, her Jimmy. Her father had killed him. She heard a steady drumming noise and realised it was her heart beating in her ears.

Sweet, sweet Jesus, what had she caused?

Downstairs, Briony and Bernadette sat together, both worried and both furious with Delia. Faith was sitting on Briony’s lap, her eye still purple and blue. She smiled at Briony with pretty even teeth. Bernadette knelt on the floor and took the child’s hands into hers.

‘Tell Nanny, darlin’. Tell Nanny what happened to your little face.’

Faith, at three, was a diplomat already. She licked rosebud lips and grinned, making a deep chuckle in her throat.

‘No!’ her little voice piped.

‘Come on, sweetie, tell Nanny and she’ll give you a big bar of chocolate. Just for Faithey. No one else.’

Faith’s face straightened. Her eyes were bright and alert. She absentmindedly rubbed at her blackened eye, the unconscious movement of many battered children who don’t feel pain as acutely as a child who is rarely smacked, let alone punched.

‘A big chocolate? For me?’ Her eyes opened wide as she spoke the words and Bernadette and Briony held their breaths.

‘Did your daddy smack you, darlin’? Tell Nanny.’

Faith decided to tell the truth and shame the devil. Though she didn’t quite put it like that to herself. She decided to say what had happened because she sensed that there was a desperate need in her granny to know. This coupled with the promise of a big bar of chocolate decided her.

‘Daddy smack Mummy.’ She pronounced smack ‘mac’.

Bernadette nodded furiously.

‘I know that, baby, but who smacked your poor eye? Was that Daddy as well?’

Faith shook her head, shy now. She pushed her face into Briony’s bosom.

‘No ... Daddy didn’t smack you, Faithey? Who did then, darlin’? Tell Auntie Briony.’

Faith looked at Briony, then at her granny.

‘Mummy smacked me.’ Her lip trembled for a few seconds before she finished. ‘Hard!’

Briony looked at Bernadette and their eyes were sad but alive with malice.

‘I’ll murder that bitch, Bri, I take oath on that.’

Briony held the tiny child to her and kissed her springy hair. ‘Calm down. Nothing will be gained if you lose your rag. What we have to do is think, girl. Think long and hard.’

She bit her lip, tasting the thickness of her Max Factor lipstick.