‘You’re doing well, Betsy love. You’re so brave.’ With this, Mags drew her towards her, and Betsy, who was only just aware of the door closing on Ciss and her unusually quiet and pliable girls, felt a moment of deep love for Mags.

Swallowing hard, she covered her emotions by gently chastising Mags. ‘You’re too thin, Mags, and I noticed you didn’t eat much. You need to build yourself up.’

‘Well, I’m hoping that if everything turns out well, you will see to that, Betsy.’

‘Me? But I thought all your plans had changed and that you were no longer going to—’

‘Oh, I don’t know what I’m going to be doing yet. Let’s sit down, and I will tell you all about what is happening.’

Seeing Phyllis coming towards them with a tray of cool drinks showed Betsy the reason why Mags had cut her off mid-sentence. The fewer folk who knew Mags’s plans, the better.

Once it was just the three of them, Mags told Betsy all that had transpired. As she came to the end of her telling, Betsy felt more worried for her than she had ever felt before. ‘So Roford can take everything?’

‘Yes, and that’s why I had to come back. Returning to that place is terrifying me, but David managed to get the concession that although I will spend a few hours of the next two days being assessed and talking to the psychiatrist, I don’t have to sleep there, and I can have David with me at all times. When David told me what had happened . . . well, I felt guilty, and knew I had to get my status as a sane person back, and hold onto what assets I have, so that we can all start that new life. I felt as if I had pulled the rug from underneath you – and the hope that Bill had for a better future.’

Betsy bent her head as shame washed over her. Was she never to be free of this guilt? ‘Eeh, Mags, it weren’t you. Bill were disappointed, but . . . well, this ain’t going to be easy to say, and I don’t want it to set you back in your recovery – not that I think you went mad or owt, but I knaw as you were hurt bad by what happened.’

‘What is it, Betsy? Do you want to tell me first?’ Dr Lange said.

‘Naw, Doctor. Mags has got to knaw. I – I’m pregnant with Roford’s child.’

‘No, Betsy! Oh, Betsy, Betsy.’

‘I’m sorry, Mags, I – I—’

‘No, don’t be. It’s me who should be sorry. I knew what Harold was like, though I never guessed he would bring so much down upon us all. And poor, poor Bill.’

‘He’d come to terms with the rape, though he did have his doubts about me – any man would. But when we realized that I had me belly up . . .’

‘Well, Betsy.’ Dr Lange shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry. This is terrible news. I don’t know what to say, other than it isn’t your fault. None of it is your fault.’