‘I know that, Gina. That’s why I think you’d be perfect for what I have in mind.’

‘So, James, I think you’d better start explaining exactly what it is that you do. And then you can tell me where you reckon I fit in.’

‘Gina, you’re priceless!’

‘Oh, no,’ she breathed, ‘far from it. Now, get talking.’

Tom, Dora and Ellen set off up the gravel drive of Grindle Hall. They’d had such an enjoyable evening at the Lodge that Dora was almost able to forget about her troubles for an hour or two.

‘You’re a grand cook, Dora,’ said Tom. ‘I’m used to doing for myself but it’s pointless cooking for one. Some nights I go down to the Lamb and Flag for a pint and a pie, game of darts with the lads, but I’ve enjoyed our evenings and your shepherd’s pie made today extra special.’

‘Aye, cooking is about giving and sharing, isn’t it? I can see why you’d think there was little point in the effort just for one,’ she sympathised.

‘Hardly worth getting the pans out,’ he agreed, wrapping one arm round Dora and the other around Ellen.

There was a rustle in the shrubs alongside the drive.

‘What was that?’ Dora asked, looking nervous. She’d felt anxious since her trip to the village shop earlier. The villagers had been so kind and supportive, but they obviously thought she needed protecting, and she was unnerved to think Phil was spouting lies about her, even if no one was taking any notice.

‘Don’t know, love,’ said Tom, not dismissing her concerns. ‘Wait here,’ he said quietly, and stepped light-footedly over to the dark shrubs, peering into the shadows in the half-light of an overcast late summer evening. After a minute or two he came back to Dora and Ellen. ‘I reckon it were nowt, just some roosting bird or mebbe a rat. We’ll get the traps out tomorrow, Nell; make sure they’re not thinking of moving into the sheds now the days are getting shorter.’

‘I know what to do. Ed showed me once at the farm.’ Ellen had a thoughtful look on her face and as they continued down the drive she looked back, searching the shrubs.

They went round the side of the house, past the kitchen door, now locked up, and Dora produced the key to the door leading from the courtyard backed by the outbuildings, and let herself and Ellen in. They exchanged good nights and then Dora and Ellen went inside and Dora locked the door, leaving the light on in the corridor, as always.

‘I’ll just get myself a glass of water,’ said Ellen as Dora turned for the narrow stairs that led straight up to their rooms in the attic. ‘Give me the key and I’ll hang it on the hook.’

‘Here, love …’