‘What the devil?’ she said, seeing Dora standing there.

‘Hello, Aunt Min,’ said Dora, with her best, sweetest smile.

‘The fact is,’ said Dora to her aunt as they sat in Min’s huge barnlike kitchen, ‘I’m in a spot of bother.’

Aunt Min sat back in her wheelback carver at the big oblong table and glared at her niece.

‘You might have let me know you were coming,’ she complained. ‘It might not be convenient, having you pitch up at the door.’

‘Is it not?’

‘What?’

‘Convenient.’

Min huffed irritably. ‘Whether it is or not, that’s beside the point. Does your mother know you’re up here?’

‘No,’ said Dora. ‘She doesn’t. Dad kicked me out. Lil knows I’m here. She suggested I come.’

‘For what reason?’ asked Min.

‘I’m in the family way,’ said Dora, having the grace to blush.

‘Oh dear God.’

‘And I was having trouble with a bloke,’ Dora went on, forcing the words out.

Min was silent for a moment, shocked. ‘Well – is he the father?’

‘No,’ said Dora. ‘He’s not.’

‘Then what’s it to him?’

‘He didn’t like the idea. He thought it was his, and I told him it wasn’t, and then he started with the rough stuff.’

‘God’s sake, what have you been getting up to?’ Aunt Min marvelled. Then her mouth drew into a thin line. ‘I always said there’d be trouble with you. Lil was stable enough, and June was too plain to ever have bother with men. But you – I could always see that Freda was going to have her hands full with you, Dora, and she would never listen to me about it. I know how she indulged you, made a fuss of you. And now look where you’ve ended up. An unmarried mother. I never thought I’d live to see such a scandal, not in my own family. The shame!’

Dora hung her head. All the way up here, she’d known she was going to get it in the neck. All she could do was ride it out.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence. Then Min heaved a sigh.

‘Well, come on,’ she said.

Dora looked up at her aunt’s lantern-jawed face. So this was it. Min was turning her away. What the hell was she going to do now?

Min stood up. ‘Move yourself, for the love of God. I’ll take you up, show you your room. It’s not even aired . . .’

Min carried on grumbling as she crossed the kitchen and kept at it all the way up the stairs while Dora followed in her footsteps, clutching her sore belly and hoping for the best, while fearing the worst.

This was the worst, as far as Dora saw it: the baby had been bludgeoned to death inside her. She was amazed that it hadn’t come away yet. Yes, she’d bled a tiny bit at first, but no baby. It felt dead to her now.

It was dead.

She was certain of it.