Now as they set off on the windy walk back along the drive, Sunday pulled her coat collar up and asked Cissie, ‘Do you think Kathy is all right? She looks so pale and since Ben has been gone, she rarely speaks unless she’s spoken to. She just gets up, goes to work then comes home and goes to bed. She isn’t eating properly either and I’m getting really worried about her.’

Cissie kept her eyes straight ahead as she answered cautiously, ‘Well, she always were the closest to Ben, weren’t she? She’s bound to feel it.’ In truth she’d had her suspicions about what might be wrong with Kathy for the last couple of weeks but with all that Sunday had on her plate at present she hadn’t dared to voice them. Best let them get into the lodge first and then face each problem as it came.

That night Sunday, Kathy and Livvy took their clothes down to the lodge, although Livvy complained bitterly all the way.

‘I can’t believe we’ve been reduced to this level,’ she ranted miserably. ‘Ben has a lot to answer for. I just hope he never knows a day’s peace after what he’s done! My friends must all be laughing at us.’ She rammed her clothes into the wardrobe and dropped onto the edge of the bed in a sulk.

Up until this point Sunday had been as patient as a saint but now she turned on Livvy with her eyes flashing fire. ‘If your friends can laugh at what’s happened to us then they’re not true friends!’ she snapped. ‘And furthermore, instead of feeling sorry for yourself all the time, my girl, you should give a thought to how hard me, Cissie and George have worked to make this place comfortable for you. It’s difficult I know but at least we’re not being turfed out onto the streets!’

Livvy instantly looked shamefaced and rising she crossed to her mother and put her arms about her waist. ‘Sorry, Mum. I deserved that, didn’t I?’

Sunday sighed as she pushed a lock of hair from her eyes, suddenly feeling very old and worn out. ‘Just try and make the best of it,’ she advised and went downstairs to put some of the paperwork she had fetched from the house away in the little escritoire she had brought from the day room. It had been her mother’s and she hadn’t been able to bear to leave it.

Thank goodness you aren’t here to see what’s happened, Mother. It would have broken your heart as it’s breaking mine, she thought as she ran her hand across the intricately inset rosewood lid.

The following Friday was spent transporting the pots and pans, crockery, cutlery and all the last-minute items they wanted to take to the lodge and by teatime they had finished and moved in.