‘Precisely. And there’s also the fact that, with no witnesses to the death, one spends so much time wondering whether one’s husband suffered much pain. One hopes it was quick, but one can’t help …’ She stopped abruptly. He was looking at her with such compassion, so much care was reflected in his eyes, and yet she hadn’t been seeking sympathy at all. She’d simply been speaking her thoughts out loud, thoughts she’d never shared with anyone. She’d found the exercise most liberating admittedly, but she didn’t want him to misunderstand, to misread her motives as a bid for his sympathy.

‘Ah well,’ she said with a smile, ‘so many other women have suffered, and are sadly yet to suffer, I’m sure, the same fate. Wives, mothers, daughters, sisters …’ She shook her head. ‘War is such a terrible thing, isn’t it?’ Then without even giving him time to answer … ‘Would you like another cup of tea?’

‘Yes, I would very much. Thank you, Amelia.’

He passed her his cup and saucer, and as she took them from him their fingers inadvertently touched. No more than the slightest split-second contact of skin on skin, but enough to completely undermine her newfound confidence.

Amelia picked up the pot and poured the tea a little shakily. She had recognised in that very instant that she could not put Tuesday night behind her, that just the touch of his fingers was enough.

The men were rapidly becoming discontented with their own company, the ringleaders among them wanting a change of scene. And besides, big Amos Cole was getting sick of the hooch.

‘This is dog’s piss,’ he said, having drained the last of the rotgut whisky directly from the bottle, which he threw to the ground, where it crashed among several other empties. ‘I suggest we go into town and buy ourselves a few real drinks, what do you say?’

‘I say yeah, that’s what we do all right.’ Tough little Bernie punched the air with his fist in a show of aggression. ‘And we don’t let nobody stop us. We get hold of some weapons from the armoury, too, just in case, just to let ’em know we mean business.’

‘Sounds like a mighty fine plan to me,’ big Amos agreed, turning to the others and rousing them along, ‘who’s up for it, eh?’

Several men nodded and raised their hands immediately. Amos Cole, with a voice as big as his stature, was a natural leader.

‘Count me in, too,’ Kasey said, as if this hadn’t been his plan right from the start. ‘You up for it, Willie?’

‘Sure thing, Kase.’ Befuddled with rum, Willie wasn’t sure what he was ‘up for’ at all, which was probably the case with most of the others. But Willie was happy to go along with whatever Kasey wanted. Kase was his buddy.