Rosie’s face lit up like a sunbeam that had just popped out from behind a dark brooding cloud.

‘Oh, yes,’ she enthused. ‘They’ll be loving this weather, running up and down the fells, chasing each other around the school playground. Dora says they’re loving Hope Farm,’ she added happily.

A pang of guilt shot through Sybil; here she was chatting about Rosie’s children, who had literally been evicted from Mary Vale because of her devious scheming.

Mercifully Rosie started another thread of conversation. ‘The new sister seems to be settling in,’ she remarked. ‘Though she doesn’t hold a candle to Sister Ada.’

Seeing this as a possible segue, Sybil said as casually as she could, ‘Talking of Sister Ada, I saw her at her exercises classes the other day.’

‘Good God!’ Rosie yelped. ‘Is she still doing them classes?’

‘She says she really benefits from them, now that she’s so close to her due date.’

‘She’s a lovely woman – I miss seeing her bright smiling face around the place,’ Rosie enthused.

Determined not to be side-tracked, Sybil ploughed on. ‘She mentioned after the class had finished that you and I have somebody in common.’

Looking suspicious, Rosie asked, ‘And who would that be?’

‘Apparently you used to work for my boss’s wife.’

Wondering if Rosie would rise to the bait, Sybil held her breath.

‘Lady Veronica Baldwin?’ Rosie asked.

Sybil nodded. ‘I never met her,’ she continued. ‘I just worked for Brigadier Baldwin. I was his secretary at the War Office.’

‘And a bit more than that, from what I’ve seen,’ Rosie thought as she fiddled nervously with her bedspread.

She knew all the gossip in the dining room about Sybil and the Brigadier; as one of the saucy residents crudely put it, ‘Her Majesty was his bit on the side.’

Looking even more wary, Rosie’s response was non-committal. ‘I did work for Lady Veronica.’

‘I’ve heard she’s a lovely woman,’ Sybil gushed. ‘Though God knows how she puts up with that wretched husband of hers,’ she added and artfully rolled her eyes. ‘I know he’s perceived as a war hero and a perfect gent, but, after working closely with him for nearly a year, I’d say he was quite the opposite.’

Rosie’s dark eyes flew wide open. ‘Would you now?’

Wondering again if Rosie would take the bait, Sybil eagerly continued. ‘He was a monster to work for – hands everywhere. We ladies avoided him like the plague,’ she lied through her teeth.

A look of real contempt flashed across Rosie’s pale face. ‘I know all about him,’ she said in a voice thick with loathing. ‘The man’s lucky to have a saint for a wife.’

A patient calling out for another cup of tea dragged Sybil reluctantly away from Rosie’s bedside.