‘I don’t remember sending it to you.’ His voice was light, but his eyes were intent as they met hers in the mirror.

It was too late to lie now. Besides, she had nothing to hide.

‘Tom sent it to me for Christmas.’

‘Tom?’ He bit out the word coldly. ‘Tom Franklin?’

‘I’ve been writing to him.’

‘Have you now?’ He tossed his shirt on to the floor. ‘And how long has this been going on?’

‘Since he was sent to France, three years ago.’

‘You mean to tell me you’ve been writing to another man for three years?’

‘Tom was good to us when you were away,’ Anna said. ‘I felt as if I owed him something.’

She looked into Edward’s face. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

‘I haven’t done anything wrong,’ she protested.

‘Why keep it from me, in that case?’

‘Because – I knew you wouldn’t like it.’

Edward’s brows rose but he said nothing. Anna watched him as he picked up the brooch and examined it.

‘It’s funny that you chose to wear this on your wedding day,’ he said in a low voice.

‘I wore it because it was pretty, that’s all. Something blue, like you said.’ Anna watched him anxiously. ‘It doesn’t mean anything, Edward.’

‘Do you still have them?’ he interrupted her.

‘What?’

‘The letters. Do you still have them?’

Anna nodded, not meeting his eye.

‘And you say it doesn’t mean anything.’ Edward’s smile was twisted with malice.

‘But I keep all my letters,’ Anna protested. ‘Yours, and Liesel’s, and my parents’.’

‘That’s different, isn’t it?’ Edward snapped. ‘We’re your family. You don’t keep letters from someone who means nothing to you!’

‘All right, perhaps he does mean something,’ Anna said. ‘Tom saved our lives, don’t forget. Liesel and Mother and I wouldn’t be alive now if he hadn’t risked his life to rescue us. And we wouldn’t have a roof over our heads if he hadn’t rebuilt this place.’

‘All right, all right! You don’t have to go on about it.’ Edward cut her off angrily. ‘Christ, I’m sick of hearing what a bloody hero Tom Franklin is.’

‘You’re right, we don’t have to talk about it.’ Anna turned to him pleadingly. ‘Can’t we just forget all about it, please? This is supposed to be our wedding night.’

‘Fetch the letters.’

‘What? No.’

‘Why not? What have you got to hide?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Then you won’t mind me reading them, will you?’

Anna stared at his face, so cold and implacable she barely recognised him. Anger rose inside her.

‘Actually, I do mind,’ she said. ‘Those letters are private.’

He looked coldly triumphant. ‘So you do have something to hide?’

‘No!’

‘Then I want to see them.’

Anna sighed angrily. ‘All right. If that’s what you really want.’

She crossed the room and retrieved the box from the back of the wardrobe.

‘There,’ she said, dumping it in Edward’s hands. ‘These are all my letters. Now please, can we stop all this?’ she begged.