‘It breaks my heart to leave here when we’ve put so much effort into making a go of the place,’ Hilda said bitterly. ‘It’s almost worse than when Wilfred turned on me, although that was bad enough.’

‘He’ll pay for what he did, Ma,’ Judy said softly. ‘Let’s not think about anything for now other than collecting what is rightfully ours.’

Nate rose from the table. ‘All right, I’ll do as you say, but I don’t like it. I’d rather fight him than let him do this to my family.’

‘He won’t profit from it, love.’ Hilda began opening cupboards and taking out the oddments of china they had managed to collect. ‘In my experience bad people get their comeuppance sooner or later.’

Nate muttered something beneath his breath and stormed out of the kitchen.

‘Don’t worry about him, Ma,’ Judy said hastily. ‘He’s young and he’ll get over it. Maybe this will be all to the good. We have to face the fact that the reputation of the Crooked Billet has been against us all the way, and we’ve made almost nothing, even after all the hard work.’

Hilda piled plates on the table, followed by bowls, cups and saucers. ‘But we’ve had a home, Judy. We’ve had food and warmth, and we might have done really well when Rob started building his new house.’

‘Even that looks doubtful now.’ Judy lifted the old saucepans from the shelf above the range. ‘Jay is clever and I don’t think he’d do all this unless he was quite sure he could get the estate back.’

‘And where is Jack in all this?’ Hilda tipped the contents of the cutlery drawer onto the table. ‘Why didn’t he stand up for us?’

‘I don’t know, Ma.’ Judy placed the last pan on the table. ‘I’ll go and start in the bedrooms. We’ll have to leave the pieces of furniture we’ve acquired, but I’ll strip the beds. I still can’t believe that Jay would do this to us on Christmas Eve, of all days.’ She left her mother to pack up the kitchen and she made her way upstairs to the chilly bedrooms.

In her own room she walked slowly to the window and gazed out at the turbulent grey waters of the estuary. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocks, and the rattle of the shingle on the shore was comfortingly familiar. It had lulled her to sleep every night for the past few months, and the creaking old inn had become their home and their haven. Her hands gripped the windowsill, and her knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists as anger raged in her breast. Jay was not going to do this to them. He might have a document with his name on it, but that did not give him the authority to throw them out on the street. The winter afternoon would be closing in soon and then it would be dark. This was not how she had envisaged spending Christmas. Judy hurried from her room and raced downstairs.