‘What! You mean like that owd man that could make the girl sing? I saw the picture. Ah, then! Now I see. Thass how they got me here and out of my clothes. You see, Miss, the very last thing I ever said to Miss Thorby was that I never would. That was the day she was seeing if the belt fitted. The minute I see it, I knew how I’d been had; as bad as if I’d stayed with my gran. I said to her they’d never get me . . . and the next thing here I was with you, and they had as good as got me.’

‘Oh no. Remember what I told you.’ Listening to Ethel had the merit of diverting her attention both from the perilous situation and from the pain in her shoulder. Besides, the story was not yet complete.

‘What did you mean about the belt, Ethel? Had you ever seen it before?’

‘Once. That was what started all the trouble. At least, I shouldn’t say that, perhaps. But for that, I might now . . . I was about ten, see. Yes, four years ago. I’d got a bad tooth and I woke up with it aching. So I went down, and there was my gran making a wreath of her best geraniums, flowers you mustn’t hardly breathe on, leave alone cut. I thought she’d gone daft. I say to her, “Gran, whatever are you doing?” And she towd me, it was a wreath for a girl to wear in a sort of game. But it was secret. I weren’t to mention it to anybody, and if I didn’t and if I was a good girl, one time I should be the girl to wear the wreath. Then she sent me off to bed with a bit of wool in my tooth with clove oil on it and some of her brew to send me to sleep.’

For a second something that was almost a mischievous smile curved Ethel’s pale lips.

‘You know how kids are. Nosey as ferrets! I never drunk the brew. When my gran looked in I foxed, and when she went out I followed. There’s a crooked owd gravestone by one of the windows out there. I clawed up on it and looked in. That was Berta Creek that year. . . . Berta Creek and Frank Revatt, got up to look like the Devil. I seen it all.’

Miss Mayfield only just restrained herself from saying, Oh, you poor child! Some things were better left unsaid; they underlined what should be skipped.