‘You don’t need to say,’ he said softly.

I took a deep shuddering breath. ‘I won’t say more than this,’ I said. ‘We were raised together, we were sisters. She never dreamed of Wide as I did. We were twin sisters, but we looked different.’

‘And where is your sister, your twin sister, now?’ Mr Fortescue asked.

I heard a low cry like an animal in pain and I hunched up over the pain which was like hunger-cramps in my belly. I felt a thud of pain on my forehead, over my eyes, and I heard a low thumping sound. Then another, and then another, and then someone grabbed my shoulders and I realized I had been banging my head on that dark shiny table. The man who hated gin traps pulled me around and held my shoulders tight until I stopped shaking and that distant moaning noise stopped.

‘That’s enough,’ he said over my head to James Fortescue. ‘We’ve got enough. It’s her. She can’t bear to tell us more now.’

I heard footsteps cross the room and the clink of a decanter on a glass. ‘Drink this,’ Mr Fortescue said, and I knocked back half a glass of cognac as if I were my da.

It hit me in the cold sad part of my belly and spread a warmth all through me. I rubbed my face with my hands, my cheeks were dry and warm. I had shed no tears, I felt as if I would never cry again. My forehead was sore. I felt a flicker of fear that I had been hurting myself so. But then the cold dullness was all around me and I did not care what they thought of me. I did not care what I did.

‘I’m all right now,’ I said. The man who hated gin traps still had his hands on my shoulders. I shrugged him off. ‘I’m all right now,’ I said again, irritably.

There was a silence in the dark room. Outside in the stable yard someone was whistling.

‘I have enough,’ Mr Fortescue said. ‘I had enough as soon as I saw her. I won’t vex you with more questions, Sarah. I shall tell you why I needed to ask you them.’

I nodded. I was still trembling from that welling-up of pain, but I took the cup of coffee for its warmth. There was a knack to balancing it on the little plate which was under the cup. I watched it carefully until I had it safe up to my mouth, and then I blew on it cautiously and supped it. It was a strange taste, but hot and sweet and strong. I thought about the taste of it, I watched the little plate under the cup, I curled my toes up hard inside my boots until I could get the picture of her, and my pain at losing her, out of my mind.