Ready for clawing Monty’s eyes out, Sybil vented all the bitterness and anger she had bottled up during her exile at Mary Vale. ‘How dare you treat me like a bitch that’s about to whelp?’ she snarled in his face. ‘It’s because of you and your stupid bloody fumbling that I’m dumped up here where you have guaranteed by your devious manipulations that I will stay, whether I like it or not.’

Monty threw her a look of withering contempt. ‘You should be bally grateful I’ve forked out the money to support you.’

‘You talk as if you have nothing to do with my being pregnant – it takes two to tango, you know,’ she cried.

Giving her a dangerously cold look, Monty sneered, ‘You really make me laugh,’ he mocked. ‘You and your family have plenty of money; there’s nothing to stop you leaving the Home if you’re that dissatisfied.’

Ready to throttle the man with her bare hands, Sybil snapped back, ‘Wouldn’t that suit you perfectly? Getting somebody else to foot the bill, while taking absolutely no responsibility for anything that has happened.’

‘Don’t play the innocent with me, lady,’ Monty snarled. ‘You knew exactly what you were taking on when you didn’t reject my approaches,’ he reminded her.

Knowing she couldn’t argue with that, Sybil turned on her heel and set off walking home alone.

‘You’re despicable, loathsome,’ she called furiously over her shoulder, ‘and one day, when all this bloody awful business is over, I vow I will have my revenge on you.’

‘What revenge?’ he mocked. ‘How can you ever get close to me? I’m married to one of the most highly ranked women in the realm. Do you think her family will ever listen to a little tart like you, snivelling on about how badly you’ve been treated? You made your bed, now lie in it.’

As Sybil set off walking through the wet windy night, he yelled after her departing back, ‘To hell with you!’

Then, without a backward glance, Monty re-entered the Smugglers’ Inn, where several eager waitresses welcomed him back.

11. Plans

Normally immensely energetic, Ada was daily more aware of how she was starting to flag at certain times of the day; sometimes she even felt like she could fall asleep standing up. Seeing her smothering yawns behind her hand while they were doing their morning round caused Sister Ann to speak up.

‘The sooner you start your maternity leave, dear, the better.’

Smiling apologetically, Ada assured her that she was fine. Smiling back, the nun said, ‘I can see you’re fine, Ada, in fact, I’ve never seen you look better – pregnancy suits you – but that doesn’t mean to say you have to keep pushing yourself.’