‘I wasn’t born rich. I’m sure you have heard that – I know my story goes before me,’ she huffed with a wry smile. ‘I never had pretensions, and despite what folk say, I was never ashamed of my background or my family; quite the opposite. I think my parents were remarkable to raise six healthy kids in such adversity. That takes some doing, doesn’t it?’

‘It really does.’ Merrin spoke sincerely and was fascinated by the woman’s words, her candid admission.

‘But Port Charles was determined to paint me in a certain way and, after some years of hiding away up at the Old Rectory, running off to Bristol whenever possible and crying myself to sleep, I embraced it. Sod the lot of them! I thought. I even bought a hat with two curled pheasant tails and my pearls’ – she ran her fingers over the double string that sat over the silk collar of her shirt – ‘and I cocked a snook at them all. Still do.’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘Guthrie,’ she began, pausing to lick her dry lips and take a breath. ‘Guthrie was a couple of decades older than me, and rich. I found both of these aspects fascinating and I remember the first time I walked into that big old house.’ She looked again at the view as if lost in a memory. ‘It was like a dream, to think I could live in a place like that!’

Merrin was rapt, the atmosphere silent, allowing every nuance to be heard and savoured from this woman who wanted to tell her story, revealing her inner self.

‘I loved him. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t only the trappings that appealed. I loved him. He read Shakespeare, he knew about wine and art and he had travelled. Can you imagine what it felt like to have someone like him interested in a girl from Mellor Waters? It was intoxicating.’

‘I can imagine.’ She spoke softly.

‘Our wedding was modest; I was giddy with happiness and for the first month or so things were wonderful. Until I realised that they were only wonderful for me and that Guthrie, despite my every effort, was not happy, not at all. He was either sad or drunk.’ She nodded and sipped her tea. ‘And that was pretty much how he stayed until the day he died.’

‘Why was he so sad?’ Merrin asked without hesitation, swept up in the tale and unaware now of any reason to feel nervous when addressing Loretta.