Feeling no animosity toward Mabel Fisherton herself, though I wished she had furnished her flat more cheerfully, I said goodbye to her and, when I had taken my clothes off them, jangled the wire hangers in her wardrobe for the final time. If her namesake had lived, what would I be doing about her? I’d have found a way, I thought, and wished I had a sweet cat to take away with me. When I had packed my case and Dad’s trunk I went upstairs to look for my landlords, if people can be landlords when you aren’t paying them.

They were both in the kitchen. I had never been in there before and hardly imagine Max was there very often. He looked rather out of place, sitting awkwardly at the table with a cup of coffee in front of him. Too upset to drink it in solitary state in the morning room, I supposed. Selina was at the sink, washing, of all things, one of their big Chinese vases. Over her dainty lilac skirt and sweater, she wore an apron with the faces of local heroes Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett printed on it. Both turned to face me and Selina slowly stripped off her yellow rubber gloves. We’re all inconsistent about our expectations and prejudices. I had never expected young men to get up when I came into a room, I’d have been astounded if one of them had, but I knew men of my father’s generation and Max’s rose to their feet for women and thought it good manners to do so. Max stood up for Selina and for Erica Silverman and the cushion designer, I had seen it, and I’m sure he did for his mysterious lover, but he had never once stood up for me. I didn’t want him to, I didn’t care, but I knew he stayed put because he despised me and thought I merited no courtesies. He sat tight and scowled at me with dislike.

I was no longer frightened. Not in the least. Euphoria made me want to be rude to them but I knew I must restrain myself.

“What is it now?” Max said, as if I had been popping in and out of the kitchen for hours. “Since you’re leaving I’ve decided not to inform the police.”

Selina looked as if she was going to cry. “Oh, Clodagh, how could you?”

“I came to say goodbye,” I said. “I’m going now.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

Teachers at school had occasionally talked to me like this but more politely. “I’d like to know how you found my friend’s money.”

Max shook his head in exasperation, but Selina answered me. “I was looking for table napkins.” She gave her husband an injured look. “We’ve only got paper ones but Max wanted real ones and said his grandma had some.”

“My grandmother,” Max corrected her.