‘I haven’t got long,’ Davina says. She doesn’t sit, and neither does she offer me a seat. I see she still has the same cream sofa from when I visited the last, and only, time. It’s not as cream as it once was, of course, more a dirty light yellow now. I could’ve told her back then she’d made a mistake with that purchase.

‘I’m not here for a coffee and a heart-to-heart, don’t worry,’ I say. ‘I’m only here to tell you to back off.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Davina gives a sharp, almost comical shake of her head.

‘I want you to stop bothering my daughter-in-law – leave her alone and stop putting ideas in her head.’

‘Look, Barb.’ Her face turns a deep pink. ‘You’re in no position to tell me who I can talk to. And she’s not going to be your daughter-in-law for much longer. I suggest you leave and don’t darken my door again.’ Davina makes a move to the front door. I’m guessing she wants me to follow her, but I stay put; feet firmly planted in the lounge. ‘You need to leave. Before my husband gets home.’

‘Oh, don’t make me laugh, Davina. That’s hardly a threat – I very much doubt your elusive husband will be home any time soon.’ I wait for my words to sink in before continuing. ‘What is a threat, is me telling you to back off … or else.’

‘Yeah, sure. Whatever.’ Davina laughs. A short, sharp, ugly snort.

My initial frustration is bubbling, gathering momentum, about to turn into anger. I screw my hands up into balls at my sides. ‘Yes. You better believe it,’ I say, squaring up to her. I realise a short, thin sixty-seven-year-old isn’t going to appear very threatening, but I’m pleased to note the colour leach from her face. ‘I’ve seen you two together – I know what you’ve been up to. Dipping into other people’s business, trying to drag up the past, taint their reputation, ruin their future. You’re repulsive.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Barbara. I think you’ve got the wrong—’

‘I do not have the wrong person, or the wrong end of the stick, and the way your cheeks have just flushed, you know it too,’ I say, in a voice as low and as menacing as I can conjure.

‘This is preposterous …’

‘No, Davina. It’s not. I know what you’ve been doing – you don’t truly believe you could’ve kept it all secret, do you? You’re not the only busybody in the village, you know.’

Davina steps backwards, her spluttering words tripping over themselves incoherently.

I’ve got her.

She’s met her match with me.

Chapter Seventy-Seven

Amber

My shock must be clear to see; my entire face feels contorted.