Project Tidy Up was going rather well and Evelyn was feeling pretty smug. There was still a way to go, and the rooms she had tackled thus far were a long way from perfect, but things were definitely better. She had also figured out how to put her internet shopping on hold, so nothing new had been delivered to the house. She had missed having the delivery driver to share a few words with, but she had replaced this in a new way.

She had left the house.

She had ventured to the little supermarket at the end of the High Street and bought herself milk and bread and a rather delicious muffin. And she had spoken to the girl at the checkout. She had wanted to tell her that this was the first time she had been out and bought her own groceries in years, but that felt like too much information to share, so instead she had passed some inane comment about the weather and the girl had given an equally inane reply, and then she had left.

And it felt amazing.

Nicholas had been virtually speechless when he had made his weekly duty call.

‘Can you help me get rid of these things?’ she asked him as he stood, open-mouthed, gaping at the mountain of black plastic bags. ‘That pile is for charity and that one for the tip. I’d do it myself, but . . .’

‘Of course, of course,’ he said, making a decent stab at enthusiasm, although Evelyn had seen his expression slide when he realised the amount of work that now lay ahead of him. ‘What’s brought this on?’ he asked her.

‘It’s been long enough,’ Evelyn replied simply.

Nicholas seemed to accept this at face value, and dutifully loaded the bags into his car and took them away over several trips.

Pip had taken to popping over in the evenings, and they shared a jug of cocoa and chatted about their lives in London. Even though Pip was a few years younger than Scarlet would have been, Evelyn couldn’t help but make comparisons. If Scarlet had lived, perhaps this was what their relationship would have been like: the two of them chatting easily at the kitchen table, sharing ideas and thoughts. Evelyn couldn’t imagine having that kind of rapport with her own mother, but she liked to think her Scarlet wouldn’t have been as desperate to run away as she herself had been.

Evelyn told Pip about the Winter of Discontent and the freezing flat she had shared with Brenda, and Pip reciprocated with stories about the cases she had worked on. One night, after they had laughed until they cried over a calamitous show Evelyn had once been in, Evelyn sat back in her chair and licked her lips.

‘You know, don’t you, Philippa Rose, that there is nothing stopping you from going back to your life?’