“That’s blackmail,” he said at last. He spoke very quietly. “ I don’t give in to blackmail.”

“Think about it,” she said. “I told you that I was going to fight this development. I’m prepared to use everything I can to stop it.”

She got up suddenly, went to a sideboard, and poured herself a drink. She brought the bottle of Scotch and some glasses back to the table. When she spoke again, they were reminded of the old Alice, of cheerful, eccentric good humour.

“I expect you all think I’m very silly,” she said. “And I really don’t want to offend anyone. But it’s so important to me. You do understand, don’t you, how important it is?” She looked around the table, inviting their sympathy, some response of support, but they were all too shocked to answer. “Have a drink!” she said. “It’s St. David’s night. Anthony always got drunk on St. David’s night. Don’t you remember that time when it snowed and he insisted we all go sledging by moonlight?”

Then they joined in the conversation, glad to hide their awkwardness with the familiar words, but the stories soon trailed away and they were left again with silence. Stella stood up first. Throughout the discussion she had been blankly unresponsive, as if she had not even been listening to what was going on.

“I’ll just go and check on Carolyn,” she said. “Make sure she’s asleep.”

She spoke with a jerky abruptness, which did nothing to relieve the tension, and they were glad when Alice stood up, too.

“Come on, Max,” she said. “ I want a word with you. Come into the kitchen and help me with these dishes.”

When the others offered halfheartedly to help, she turned them away. “ No, no,” she said. “ I’m not going to do it all. Just tidy it up for Olive to see to in the morning. Besides, I want a private word with Max.”