Without looking back, she ran down the landing. Halfway down the first set of stairs, she shouted back up, ‘And as for you, Dr Robin, don’t think I won’t be telling your wife that I saw you here, and all that I saw, because I bloody will.’ She took one last glance up, blessed herself for swearing and then belted down the rest of the stairs before one or the other of them came after her.

*

Mary Kate had begged Cat and Mrs O’Keefe not to call her father or the post office in Tarabeg or tell anyone she was returning home. ‘I don’t want anyone to know,’ she’d said. ‘I have to think what I’m going to be saying to them. How do I keep such a big secret from everyone I know? You don’t understand – Tarabeg isn’t Liverpool. If they knew the truth, I wouldn’t be able to go back home, and I need that more than anything. Please, don’t be saying a word to anyone because, really, you have no idea.’

Mrs O’Keefe and Cat had caught each other’s eye and frowned, but nothing more had been said. Now though, with Joan’s account of Lavinia’s crazed behaviour still fresh in her head, Cat had hatched a plan. She waited until Mary Kate was back in bed, then shared her thoughts with Mrs O’Keefe.

‘Oh, no. You can’t be doing that,’ Mrs O’Keefe protested.

‘Why in God’s name not? Her daddy has a right to know. I know what to do – I just call the post office or the shop and say what time I’ll call back and they fetch him to speak to me.’

Mrs O’Keefe felt an unexpected anger rise within her. ‘Cat, it was as obvious as the nose on your face that you were carrying on, or trying to, with Mary Kate’s father when he came to Liverpool that time two years back. Now ask yourself, why are you calling him – for Mary Kate’s sake or for yours?’

Cat bristled and wasted not a second replying. ‘They have a right to know if she is coming home, and what is she going to do when she gets there – act like nothing has happened? She’s out of her mind with grief. Of course they need to know what’s been going on.’

Mrs O’Keefe closed the sitting room door just as she heard Joan’s footsteps on the stairs and hissed back, ‘None of us know what’s going on in her head. She has lost Nicholas, the boys, her money, the clothes off her back. And now Lavinia Marcus has taken his last present to her, her precious choker. You cannot add to her troubles by doing something which carries a risk and, added to that, something she hasn’t agreed to. You cannot let Michael know. She is determined to get back to Tarabeg as fast as she can and nothing we can do or say will stop her. They are her people, she will know what to say when she gets there and it really is none of our business.’