He leaned close to her ear and whispered quietly, carefully, ‘What if you hadn’t married? What if you’d ignored the pressure of sniggers and calls to do the right thing? You might have been happier.’

‘Or I might have been an old maid who died alone and childless. Or, who is to say, I might have fallen further and ended up in a whorehouse or working on the street.’

He could not believe she had just articulated such things to him. To any man. To him. Whorehouse. It conjured up images of heavy red brocade curtains, white thighs, black suspender belts. What could she know of such places? Then again, she was a married woman, she must know things. He ought to understand that. She wanted him to recognise her experience, her knowledge. She did not want to appear virginal, naïve or innocent. Why? Women like her staked their lives on playing the naïf to perfection.

He felt his entire body quake. Shock at hearing her say the words, or because he genuinely hadn’t considered those alternatives? Something different altogether? Desire?

She turned to him, tilted her head and asked, ‘Why are you so concerned about my marriage, Mr Henderson?’ The moment trembled. It was unclear which way it might fall.

He couldn’t tell her.

For all his belief in honesty, and even after everything he’d impertinently and possibly imprudently said to her already, he couldn’t say any more. He wanted to kiss her but he stopped still. He couldn’t read her expression; a cacophony of emotions ran across her face. She was infuriated and pitying. Relieved and victorious. ‘You see, things could have been much worse if I’d continued to rebel. Consider that when you are pursuing your silly analogy. There is a reason we conform within society. We’re protected by it. Why would you want to walk so entirely alone?’

‘I wish I didn’t have to be alone in this. I wish millions saw it my way.’

‘What if you are simply wrong? What if doing nothing is the absolute worst thing a person can do?’

With that, Vivian pulled open the front door and dashed out of the house. Clearly she believed it so fiercely, she didn’t even want to savour the victory.

33

‘HERE COMES THE cavalry!’ Ava called loudly as her car pulled up outside the house at Blackwell. Vivian felt a surge of joy that was only just pinched by the thought that her in-laws would no doubt have heard and understood Ava’s comment, and the concern that Ava had arrived by car, which would no doubt raise eyebrows. Petrol was to be saved for essential journeys; visiting one’s pals could hardly be considered that. She tried to push the niggles away. She vaguely remembered being a careless girl and wished to be so again, at least for the duration of Ava’s visit.

‘Working outside suits you, Vivi,’ Ava declared. She forsook the usual air kiss and pulled Vivian into an embrace, albeit a very elegant one. Ava had been not only amused but also impressed when she first heard about Vivian’s work on the land. She had doubted Vivian would persist with it but was thrilled that she had; full of admiration.