‘Naw. I asked, but he said as we would probably never knaw. But, lass, you’re to be strong. If this breaks you, then Harold will have won. We knaw this is his doing – it has to be.’

‘Yes. The pity is that he couldn’t help himself. Oh, I’m not excusing him, but his whole family, except Flors, self-destructed. His brother died by a fire set by his own hand. His mother destroyed Harold’s father, and then he in turn destroyed her . . . It just goes on and on.’

‘Aye, I remember you told me of them. Well, now it seems Harold has destroyed himself, and murdered others. But what of Flors? Is she like them?’

‘No. If Flors only knew it, she was lucky to be the forgotten daughter, rejected by them all. Lucky to have been brought up by her nanny, and not to have been influenced by the evil that affected the rest of the Rofords. But she was scarred by them, and her ultimate happiness was marred by the actions of her father keeping the secret of his child born out of wedlock.’

‘Aye, it’s a million-to-one chance that Flors should fall in love with her long-lost brother. Eeh, the tangles that evil weaves. Well, please God, we’re rid of Harold now.’

‘Yes, please God. But . . . Oh, Betsy, how am I to live without my Montel?’

‘Don’t! Don’t go down that road. Take it step by step. And I’ll walk beside you. You will get through it, lass, you will. I knaw this as a fact.’

Mags clung on to Betsy’s hand. They’d come through a lot together. Whether she could come through this, she didn’t know, but she would hold Betsy’s hand whenever she needed to and would try to gain strength from her. And yes, she had her baby.

‘Betsy, I think I’m with child.’

‘Eeh, lass . . . lass. I’m pleased for thee. Hang on to that. Hang on to knawing as you have a part of Montel allus with you.’

They went into a cuddle, and Mags felt she never wanted to come out of it, as in Betsy’s arms there was safety and the strength to stop her falling into the deep, dark pit that had opened up inside her.

The rain soaked them as Mags stood, with Betsy by her side, at the open grave containing Montel’s coffin. It had been a week since that horrendous night. Susan stood on her other side. A shadow of the girl she had been, she had arrived the day before.

When Susan saw Sibbie, her arms went out to her, and Mags willed the little girl to go to her, but Sibbie didn’t; she turned and ran towards Mags instead, her arms begging Mags to lift her up. ‘You’re a big girl now, Sibbie, I can’t lift you, darling.’ At this, Sibbie had hidden in her skirt. Taking her hand, Mags steered her towards the portrait of Susan and told Sibbie, ‘Look, that’s your mama.’ Then she turned the little girl towards Susan and said, ‘Your mama.’ Sibbie reacted by pulling her skirt around herself once more to hide her face. ‘It’s just shyness, Susan, give her time.’