‘She has plans, Doctor. She’s assured me that, with your help, she can access the means to help herself. I don’t knaw any more than that, but I questioned her on what she’d do, if I did help her to get free, and that’s what Mrs Roford told me.’

‘Right, first thing is for me to try and get permission to visit her. Dr Jenkins shouldn’t refuse me that. But, Iris, I need to know how far you’re prepared to go for her. I mean, Dr Jenkins only has those reports to go on, and if they are damning – look, I know you are worried about losing your job, but if I promise you faithfully that nothing you say will go any further, will you answer me one question?’

‘Aye, I will.’

‘Why are the reports so damning, if you say she is well? I mean, is it possible someone is being paid to keep Margaret’s notes showing that she is still unwell in her mind?’

‘Eeh, is that what you think, Doctor?’

‘Yes, Iris, I think – given the conclusions we have come to – that is possible, but is it probable?’

Betsy saw Iris’s face go through several expressions, until she suddenly looked as though a light had switched on. ‘It is. The nurse who has it in for her – well, he ain’t a proper nurse, he’s an orderly – he puts everything at Mrs Roford’s door: any disturbance during the night, that sort of thing. And there’s been rumours flying around that he’s come into some money of late, as he’s splashing out on stuff that none of the rest of us can afford; he’s even bought a motorbike. Good God . . . that’s it! By, if I get me chance, I’ll give him sommat to boast of, and it won’t be nowt good, either, the rotter.’

‘Well, we don’t know for sure that what we are thinking is the truth. We must be very careful what we say outside this room. You must carry on as if you don’t suspect anything, Iris. Leave it to me. I will come up with a way out of this. Now, ladies, I do have a pressing engagement, but rest assured we will get Margaret out of that place.’

Betsy had been listening to everything with a sinking heart, but hearing the doctor sound so positive cheered her. She trusted Dr Lange; and aye, she knew how fond he was of Mags – something she’d not approved of in the past, him being twenty years or so senior to her. But now this was something she was glad of, as she knew he would do his utmost. And that was the only hope she had for Mags at this moment in time.

As they stepped outside, Betsy offered her hand to Iris. ‘Eeh, Iris, I’m so glad as Mags has a friend in you. Take me hand and take me heart – you’re a friend as I’d like to have as me own an’ all.’