‘Yes, ma’am,’ says Sarah, bobbing down.

‘Wait a moment,’ says Annie and Sarah turns. ‘I have not always been a good mistress to you, Sarah, but I thank you for everything you have ever done and for your kindness.’ She kisses her on the cheek. ‘Now run – go – for I cannot be assured of your safety in this house anymore.’

Sarah dashes out, taking one last look behind her, memorising everything in order to recount it to, well, someone, anyone, some day.

‘Come,’ says Annie and they follow her out of the servants’ hall, past the stairs up to the ground floor, the kitchen on the right and the small wine cellar on the left. The hallway turns a sharp left and straight in front of them stands a metal gate covered on the other side with oilcloth.

‘This is my husband’s part of the basement. The gate he had installed so as not to be disturbed at his work,’ says Annie, trying and failing to conceal her nerves.

‘Charlie?’ says Mary and the boy steps forward to look at the lock in more detail.

‘I should, perhaps, try to talk to him . . .’ says Annie.

‘I’m not sure that is wise,’ says Mary, but it is too late.

‘Edward!’ Annie shouts. ‘Edward, husband are you there? I beg of you, open this gate. Husband! Husband!’

He is distracted, thinks Etta. They can hear his wife’s voice from the hallway, the door to the dissecting room left open. Edward ignores the shouting but still, he is distracted.

‘Will you not look to your wife?’ says Etta, slowly.

‘It is of no consequence,’ says Edward but he is confused. Annie has returned. He supposes he must see her, but his angel is here and the two must not meet, not before his presentation is over and all is done.

‘I shall put you back in your room,’ he says reluctantly, for the cell is unclean and he does not wish to sully the gown.

‘Then you must lead the way,’ she says, motioning with her head.

As he steps out of the room, Etta dashes forward and grabs the knife from the sideboard.

He turns to see and is stunned to find her pointing the knife at him, eyes flaming.

‘Edward!’ yells Annie from the other side of the gate, picking up the bell and ringing it. ‘Please! Open this gate.’

‘Open the gate!’ commands Etta fiercely.

‘No,’ he says, frowning. ‘No! ’

‘Edward, if you do not open this gate, then we will open it for you!’ says Annie loudly. ‘There is a locksmith here and he will open it on my say-so.’

‘Open it,’ says Etta firmly as she moves towards him. ‘Or I will slice you open instead.’

‘But it is not . . . this is not God’s will.’ He stumbles as he takes a step backwards down the hallway. ‘You are my angel! God gave you to me!’