‘Oh, nothing for little girls to worry about. I’ll be in to see you after he’s been.’

Briony licked her lips and looked at the man beside her. Since the news of the baby, she had felt a change inside her. She knew what was happening to her, had seen births enough times, even helped her mother with a couple, including the birth of her dead brother. It was as if all this had turned her into an old woman. She no longer felt the childish exuberance that shielded her from the horror of nights spent with this man. Now every little thing they had ever done stood out in her mind with stark clarity. She felt his revulsion towards her, saw it in his eyes and felt it in his touch. She knew with an inner certainty that she was dead already as far as this man was concerned. That her child, the little life he had sparked, was also dead. That he wouldn’t rest until it had been dragged out of her. She also knew that she was not having any part of it.

‘I want to see Eileen and me sisters, please. Could you arrange it?’ Her voice was low but strong.

Henry cleared his throat and was about to protest when she spoke again.

‘I couldn’t understand what was wrong with our Eileen for a long time, but now I understand exactly, Henry. No amount of money is worth all this, is it?’

It was said so simply, so honestly, that he didn’t have the guts to answer her. Instead he walked from the room.

Dr Carlton had imbibed a generous amount of whisky and was waiting now in the morning room for a light lunch to be served before the serious business began. The old woman, Mrs Horlock, was like a cat on hot coals. He sighed. It was never a nice business this, but needs must when the devil drives. The older woman should be hardened to it by now. He remembered her from years back when she’d worked for a much more illustrious client. She’d had no qualms about holding the chit down then, while he saw to the business in hand. Got softer as she got older probably. Well, she’d need her wits about her today. He’d have a quiet word with her before the off. The girl would be nervous enough without the old woman frightening the life out of her.

He hated these jobs, but twenty pounds was twenty pounds, and who was he to sneeze at it? He got out of his seat with difficulty and poured himself another whisky. Just to fortify him. His hands were shaking again this morning, and he wondered, as he did every morning, if he was coming down with a cold.