Peggy folded her arms and glared at him. ‘I gave her a slap and a good shake for treating her son and his family in that appalling manner. I can’t say I’m proud of losing my temper like that, but she deserved it, Frank – as you very well know.’

‘Yeah, I do,’ he conceded, slumping in his kitchen chair. ‘But the trouble she caused won’t go away, Peg, and it will take more effort than she’s willing to give to put it right.’

He gave a deep sigh and rested his chin in his large hand. ‘I’d walk out tomorrow if she was well, but she’s still being troubled by terrible headaches, and I can’t just abandon her.’

Peggy smiled at him. ‘I doubt you’ll ever leave her, Frank, no matter how many times you threaten to, or how much she winds you up. But what does the doctor have to say about these headaches? Are they real or yet another ruse to keep you on your toes?’

Frank looked a bit sheepish, as if well aware of how easily his wife controlled him. ‘He says it’s probably stress and the onset of the menopause.’

‘Would that account for such severe headaches?’ Peggy asked.

Frank shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know. But he’s taken blood tests and so on, and is now talking about sending her to see a specialist in London.’

‘What sort of specialist?’ Peggy asked sharply.

‘A neurologist, I think he said.’ Frank grimaced. ‘Someone who deals with people’s heads, anyway.’

‘That does sound serious.’ Peggy experienced a pang of guilt, for she’d slapped Pauline’s face very hard and given her a rough shaking during that altercation, and she was suddenly frightened that she might have done her some real damage.

Frank seemed to read her thoughts and reached for her hand. ‘It was nothing you did that day to make her the way she is, Peg. She’s been damned difficult for years.’

‘That she has,’ murmured Peggy. ‘But these headaches are a new thing.’

Frank slurped from his cup of tea. ‘It’s always been hard to know what’s ailing her, Peg. There’s always something wrong, and she’s back and forth to that doctor’s almost every week. It’s a good thing they’re looking at making health services free. I dread to think how much money her hypochondria has cost me over the years.’

Charlie came into the kitchen looking like death warmed up just as Sarah and Jane took their places at the table. Peggy bit down on a smile as Charlie blushed to the roots of his black hair and ducked his head to concentrate on the bowl of cereal she put in front of him. At fifteen, her son was maturing fast, and clearly appreciated the sight of two pretty young women despite being hung-over.

Managing to resist stroking back his hair from his eyes, she sat back down and smiled at the two girls. ‘You’re looking very lovely today,’ she said, regarding the flowery dresses, neat hair and immaculate make-up. ‘Are you off to somewhere nice?’