As she huddled on the couch, she decided she had been utterly stupid to play into Cynthia’s hands by leaving her alone with Ben. She wished she had gone with them, wished she didn’t love him, because it made her so vulnerable, wished she had never married him – No! She shook her head. She didn’t wish that, would not undo it even if she could. ‘You’re a fool, though!’ she told herself.

‘I know I am,’ she sighed a moment later. ‘But I can’t seem to help myself where he’s concerned.’

She went back into the laundry to wash her clothes. It felt so cold out there she left them soaking. There was no hot water left, anyway.

It was chilly inside the house, too, because she’d forgotten to stoke up the ancient pot-bellied stove which also heated the water. The old fire was rather awkward and she hadn’t really got the hang of it yet. If they were going to live here, they’d have to get a better heater for the house, and an electric heater for the water.

It had been paradise when there were just the two of them. Now it was more like purgatory. And a damp, chilly purgatory, too.

She sneezed and shivered as she struggled with the last of their newspaper and tried to light a fire with the damp wood. Was she catching a cold? That’d be the final straw. Fancy trying to compete against Cynthia’s elegance with a red nose!

She couldn’t concentrate on the book. And when she went over to turn up the fire, she found it had gone out again. But she wouldn’t let herself cry. Well, only a stray tear or two.

Chapter 12

By the time Ben and Cynthia returned, the rain was falling steadily and the roof had started to leak, not a gentle drip this time, but a steady trickle. Megan had emptied the bucket several times, braving the icy wind that seemed to be scouring the warmth from the landscape. She contemplated another attempt to light that fire, but couldn’t be bothered.

In fact, her body felt at as low an ebb as her spirits. Perhaps she had been wrong to marry Ben? He didn’t love her and never would. Why should he? She was so ordinary, compared with the women he had associated with before.

When she heard the car drive up, she didn’t make any attempt to go outside. As the front door opened she greeted them with, ‘The roof’s leaking worse than ever.’

Cynthia stared at the drip bucket as if she had never seen such a thing before. ‘How quaint!’

Ben, whose mood seemed to match Megan’s, came over to scowl at the water filling the bucket rapidly and growled, ‘That’s all I need!’