‘Oh, that’s the least of it,’ Edie went on, still impassioned. ‘When I’m done, that rag won’t even exist. Where is Toby, anyway?’

‘At home working, I think,’ Rachel said.

‘As I should be,’ Edie sighed. ‘I’m not making much progress on this print. It’s almost as if there’s an extra distraction in the house or something.’ She glared at Gilly, but Rachel could see no fire behind it.

‘Or perhaps,’ Gilly said, with surprising mildness, ‘it’s because you’re up all hours reading those science fiction books of yours.’

The artist made a ‘pfft’ sound and pushed away from the counter. ‘I’m going to get some work done while the house is quiet. Don’t be late for your lesson,’ she called to Gilly over her shoulder as she left.

Rachel bent down to pick up her own bag. When she straightened up, Gilly was regarding the door that had closed behind Edie with a frown on her face.

‘What’s the matter?’

Gilly looked at her. ‘I think there’s something wrong with her.’

‘With Edie?’ Rachel asked, surprised. ‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s like she’s avoiding the print room. When I get back, it sometimes looks as if she hasn’t been in there at all, or if she has, she’s just printed old blocks instead of working on the new one.’

‘Maybe she’s in a bit of a slump,’ Rachel said, swinging her bag over her shoulder. ‘That must happen to every artist sometimes. It’ll pick up soon.’

‘Maybe,’ Gilly said, chewing her lip. ‘But—’

‘But?’

‘Nothing, it doesn’t matter. You go, I’ve got things here.’

Rachel reached out and squeezed the girl’s shoulder, smiling despite her own worries. Gilly’s face was beginning to lose the pinched, shadowed look that had haunted it when she’d first visited the bookshop. It was good to see.

‘I’ll be back at lunchtime,’ she said, as she left.

Ron was already at the gatehouse. As soon as he saw her, he wrapped Rachel in a hug.

‘Anyone who knows you knows it’s not true,’ he said, squeezing her so hard she could barely breathe. ‘I was on the blower to that sorry excuse for a newspaper first thing this morning, telling them exactly that.’

‘Oh, Ron,’ Rachel said, hugging him back before pulling out of his embrace. ‘You didn’t have to do that. It’s probably better to let it go. I don’t want even more trouble.’

‘There’s no way Cullen would have stood for that, and since he’s not here to sort it out himself, it’s down to the likes of me,’ Ron insisted stoutly. ‘If we can’t get them through the proper channels or through them deciding to do the right thing, I swear I’ll make them regret it until the day I pop off.’

‘Ron,’ Rachel said, shocked. ‘Don’t talk like that!’

‘Believe me, I’m already gathering my resources,’ he sniffed. ‘I’ve been researching retribution through the medium of glitter. You can send a card full of the stuff that has a mechanism in it like a Jack-in-the-box, so that when someone opens it – whoof! – off it goes, all over the place. Now that’s my kind of revenge!’