‘It’s not a story, it’s the truth. Now look here, there really is nothing left to be said. I’m sorry I misled him all those years ago – it was a shoddy thing to do, I admit, and I’m not proud of my behaviour that summer, but I was young and stupid … ignorant …’ She brushes her hair back from her face and catches a waft of manure. She realises she must stink. ‘Anyway, he quite rightly ignored my letters then and he should ignore them now. I don’t know why he should suddenly care—’

‘Because he can’t have any more children.’

Lady Helen observes Gwen’s shock, her own dull eyes betraying her suppressed emotion. ‘He didn’t tell you that, did he? He sustained an injury while fighting in North Africa. No other lasting physical effects … just that one. So, you see, Tom takes on a new significance. He is the only natural son and heir that Gordon will ever be able to have.’

‘He is not Gordon’s son. He’s my husband’s.’

‘Ah, yes … your husband. He was your father’s farm labourer, wasn’t he? You see, Mrs Ellison, I’ve read your letters – so powerful, so desperate … pitiful even. I don’t believe you could have fabricated that passion … and I don’t believe you could have whored yourself about when you had that depth of feeling for Gordon. This tall tale of stringing both him and your husband along at the same time … I don’t buy it, Mrs Ellison, and neither does Gordon.’ She sighs as if Gwen is some troublesome conundrum. She cocks her head to one side and pulls a sympathetic moue. ‘What a predicament you found yourself in; how impossible everything must have seemed.’ Her focus trails over Gwen’s shoulder to Tom. ‘Gordon is of the opinion that this “husband” was a convenience, paid for by your father.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Her voice peaks with disbelief as she studies Gwen, the ghost of a smile on her lips. ‘Then why hasn’t he come home? We’ve made some enquiries, you see. Between us, Gordon and I have some useful family connections. Your husband, Mrs Ellison, isn’t dead … he’s not listed as missing, he is not a POW – in fact, your husband was demobbed several weeks ago, which begs the question – where has he got to? What husband … what father … doesn’t leave the army and rush home to his family?’ She tips her head to one side. ‘Perhaps one who never really had a family in the first place.’

Her smile is chilling. Gwen turns towards the field struggling to absorb the information, unsure how to react to the news that Jack is not dead and that he is thankfully keeping his promise.