‘What if I want my life to be with you?’ He took hold of her shoulders in one swift movement. ‘I didn’t want to say this so soon but I love you and I want to be with you.’

Her recoil was immediate and instinctive. As she wrenched herself free she took a step backwards, her eyes huge in her white face. ‘Stop it.’ She took a shuddering breath. ‘Just go.’

‘No, I won’t go. Look, you want a lodger. Fine. I’ll move in and pay you whatever you want. You managed on Davey’s wage so you’ll manage on mine.’

Was he mad? ‘Davey was my husband so we managed together.’

‘And I’m prepared to marry you, Rose, after a suitable time has gone by for appearances’ sake.’

‘I don’t want to marry you, I don’t want to marry anybody.’ She backed across the room and as she did so Betsy began to whimper, sensing something was wrong. ‘I can take in lodgers and perhaps washing and we’ll get by, Betsy and me.’

‘You’ll take in lodgers over my dead body.’ His face was dark with frustration and fury. ‘I mean it, no one is coming into this house apart from me, both now and in the future. I’ll kill you and her an’ all’ – he glanced at Betsy – ‘before I let that happen. Do you want that on your conscience?’

‘You wouldn’t, you wouldn’t hurt Betsy.’

‘Only if you make me.’ He reached out to her again, grabbing her wrist and pulling her violently towards him, and as he did so anger boiled up in her, swamping the fear and panic, and she slapped him hard across the face.

Whether it was the slap or the nearness of her as he held her against him she didn’t know, but suddenly the last of his control had gone. Clutching her to him, he pinned her arms to her sides and forced her head back, taking her mouth in a savage kiss. She struggled desperately, aware that Betsy was now screaming for all she was worth, and her body writhing, she brought her knee up between his legs with a force borne of terror.

He emitted a strangled scream and collapsed to his knees, his hands clutching his private parts, and before he could recover she yanked open the kitchen drawer and grasped the carving knife, holding it in front of her as he lurched to his feet. She expected him to come at her again or shout and curse, so when he stood, half-bent over and gasping as he said, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ it threw her for a moment.