But these were lone voices and the crowd moved around them, jostling and enjoying the fun. An ibis that had wandered into the crowd in search of food got itself trodden on and flapped noisily into the air, squawking indignantly, and the people around it laughed.

It was an afternoon’s entertainment. History was in their hands, these people who laughed at a silly bird and who wandered about foolishly like children at a party.

But Alasdair smiled at them good-naturedly. Until one man called out, ‘Your fancy wife looks like she ain’t never done a hard day’s work in her life but because she shares her bed with a politician that gives her the right to sit up there all high and mighty, does it? Let her spend the night with a real man and I will teach her a thing or two about wifely duties!’

For a moment no one spoke. The crowd seemed frozen as in a montage, the cockatoos fell silent and the kangaroos in the next paddock lifted their heads, their noses twitching.

Eleanor, too, lifted her head though it felt strangely heavy and the air around her had a viscous, glue-like quality, and she looked to her husband. But he, like herself, was frozen. No words came from his lips. No anger sprung to his eyes. No muscle moved on his face. He remained silent.

Beside her the mayor scrambled to his feet.

‘You are a disgrace, sir. Leave at once or you will find yourself in a cell overnight. This lady is our most honoured guest and our treatment of her will be no less than it would be were the wife of the Governor himself here, or Her Majesty the Queen,’ and he bowed low before the minister’s wife as if she were indeed the Queen, sweeping off his hat and resuming his seat. The crowd, released from its horror by the mayor’s gallant rebuttal, cheered and went about its business and forgot what had been said a moment earlier by someone in their midst.

But Eleanor sat quite still.

And when it was time to go it was James Greensmith, her husband’s secretary, who held her arm and escorted her to the carriage, and with such a look on his face one might believe he would gladly have hunted down and killed with his bare hands the man who had insulted her.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: DO NOT TAKE OUR WORD FOR IT

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

DO NOT TAKE OUR WORD FOR IT