‘Yes,’ she said simply. She offered no apology for any breach of trust.

Evelyn didn’t say anything for a moment. She seemed to be considering her next move. Pip longed to say something to encourage her to open up, to tell the story, but her gut told her that staying quiet was the right thing to do.

‘I thought you might have,’ said Evelyn eventually. ‘It’s what I would have done, too. Is that why you brought it back?’

Pip nodded.

‘But you didn’t tell anyone else.’

Pip shook her head.

Evelyn took a deep breath, moving a stray wisp of hair away from her mouth, and then blew it all out as if she was deciding what to do next. Then she picked up her teacup, took a mouthful and placed it back down firmly.

‘So,’ she began. ‘I’ll tell you what happened, and then you can decide what you want to do next. Unless you’d rather not know, of course?’

Was Jez right? Had Evelyn really murdered Joan? The diary was ambiguous, but the 30th November entry certainly could be interpreted that way. And if that was what Evelyn was about to tell her, then where did that leave Pip morally? Would she be obliged to pass the information on to the police?

The sensible thing would be not to know, to tell Evelyn it didn’t matter one way or the other, and she could take her secret with her to the grave.

But there was something about Evelyn’s expression that made Pip think she really did want to tell her, that it was time for an unburdening of sorts. If she had been waiting all these years to let the truth out and had chosen this as the moment to do so, then surely Pip owed it to her to listen.

Decision made, she nodded. ‘Please tell me,’ she replied.

Evelyn gave a curt nod, and Pip felt that an understanding of sorts had passed between them.

‘It was a Wednesday,’ she began without bothering with any kind of introduction. ‘On Wednesdays, Scarlet and I always went to the library to change our books, but that day Scarlet wasn’t well. She had a cold starting and she was a little bit whiny, so rather than make her walk all that way, I decided to leave her at home with Joan whilst I nipped out and did it on my own. When I got home, Scarlet was dead.’

Pip’s eyes widened at the abruptness of Evelyn’s words, but she bit her tongue and said nothing. It felt important not to interrupt and to let it all escape at once. She watched Evelyn swallow hard, her jaw held tight. This was really hard for her, that much was obvious.