‘Lift your head up,’ Mrs O’Keefe said under her breath. ‘Don’t stare at the pebbles. They all look the same.’

On the drive sat a Morris Minor and next to it a familiar suitcase. Before they reached the front steps, the front door flew open to reveal Lavinia Marcus. She stood there in her hat and coat, a cigarette in her hand, staring at them as though an infestation of cockroaches was about to invade the house.

‘Get away from here,’ she said, jabbing her cigarette towards them. ‘I told you never to set foot on this land again or to come anywhere near my house. Are your ears made of cloth or what?’ She placed her hand on the door and inhaled deeply on her cigarette.

Mary Kate and Mrs O’Keefe glanced round as they heard a car turning into the drive. The tension slipped from Mary Kate’s shoulders. It was William.

As he leapt out of his car, Lavinia shouted down the drive, ‘William, will you tell this trash to remove themselves. I don’t want them here when the new owner turns up.’

William locked his car door, pushed the car keys into his jacket pocket and smiled at Mary Kate. ‘Your new owner has arrived,’ he said to Lavinia. And then, turning to Mary Kate, ‘Did the agent give you the keys?’

Mary Kate was stiff with fear and could only nod in response.

‘Good. We’re on safe ground then.’

Lavinia marched up to Mrs O’Keefe and with her hands on her hips lurched forwards and staggered slightly.

‘Have you been drinking, Lavinia?’ asked William.

She began to laugh. ‘If I have, what’s it got to do with you?’ She turned to Mrs O’Keefe. ‘What have you bought this house for? William, you said it was a young professional lady who was buying it – I mean, you’re hardly professional, are you?’ There was a slight slur to her speech as she threw her cigarette to the ground.

‘A young professional lady has bought the house,’ said William. ‘Meet Probationer Nurse Malone.’

Lavinia rocked back on her heels and squinted. ‘You?’ she said, her voice dripping with disbelief. ‘You? How can you afford this house? I put it on the market at a high price. I sold it for five hundred pounds.’

Mary Kate fingered the keys in her pocket. ‘Yes, and I paid the price.’ Mrs O’Keefe squeezed her arm. Mary Kate had expected to feel anger, grief, distress, elation when she walked down the drive, but actually all she felt at the sight of Lavinia Marcus was pity. ‘Mrs Marcus, would you like me to fetch your handbag for you so that you can leave? I bought the house with all its furnishings and fittings and I can see that your suitcase is ready by the car.’

‘No, no, I wouldn’t. I’ve changed my mind – you can’t have it. I’ll take back the sale. Now scarper, off my drive! William, tell her.’

William looked down at the ground and scuffed a pebble with his shoe. ‘I’m afraid, Lavinia, that it’s too late for that. Mary Kate paid her money and the deeds are now in her name. She is the rightful legal owner.’