‘It ain’t just others knawing.’ With this, Bill lowered his head into his hands.

‘Bill, Bill, don’t – we can get through this. We have to.’

‘But how am I to take to a babby that were planted in me wife by another man, eh?’

‘It ain’t babby’s fault. You’ve to remember that. Poor little mite has nowt to do with what’ll pain us both for the rest of our lives.’

‘Betsy, tell me. Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t want it . . . Betsy? Betsy, lass . . .’

Betsy was out of the door and running down the path. Bill’s accusing eyes haunted her. She’d known; oh aye, she’d known what had been eating away at him. It were the age-old given in all men that there was no such thing as rape. But it wasn’t just that Betsy was running from. She was running from the truth. The truth that haunted her every waking hour and most of her dreams.

The brakes screeching beside her shocked her. Turning and seeing Roford getting out of his car froze Betsy to the spot. ‘What’s got you running, slut? Your rotten conscience, I shouldn’t wonder. Well, I need to talk to you. Get into my car, and quick.’

‘Naw. I’m going nowhere with you.’ Though she must look defiant, Betsy was dying inside. Why was he here . . . Oh God! Mags! He’ll think as I knaw sommat.

‘I’m not going with you, and if you touch me I’ll scream the place down. There’s curtains twitching already, thou knaws.’

This stopped Roford in his tracks. ‘Well, we’ll talk here then.’

‘Keep your distance – don’t come near me.’

‘You’re a bitch. A liar and a bitch. If I had ten minutes in a room with you, I’d make you sorry. I’d rape you all right. I’d have you begging for mercy.’ For a minute his eyes clouded over, and lust shone from them. It was still there as he growled out, ‘But that’s not going to happen, though I know you want it to. Now tell me what you know about Mags’s disappearance. I know you’re involved in some way, so don’t deny it.’

‘Mags? Disappeared? Naw, she’s in that asylum you put her in, ain’t she?’

‘Don’t play the innocent with me. She had to have help from outside. I’m warning you: if you don’t tell me, something bad will happen. Worse than I’ve done so far – chucking you out of your cottage and banning your brats from my school. That’s nothing to what I’m planning.’ It was there again – that look that told her he wanted her. But what Roford said next shocked Betsy rigid. ‘How would you like your brats to go missing, eh?’

‘What? You can’t do that! You can’t. Naw . . . naw.’

‘Think about it. But while you are thinking, keep watching your back and theirs. And I’m telling you, I will find that useless wife of mine. I have my ways, so you’ll lose your brats for nothing.’