‘I’ve just found this,’ she said, coming back into the sitting room, where the policemen were looking in the cupboard, and handed it over to them.

When the police had gone, having found some empty cardboard boxes but no other items they believed to be stolen, either in Gina’s rooms or in James’s, the Arnolds and the Stellions felt awkward and subdued. Neither wanted to blame the other for James and Gina’s dishonesty, but each was very disappointed in both. In the end, George suggested Edith went upstairs to lie down, then he saw the Arnolds out through the front door.

‘It’s a bad business,’ he said. ‘But if we hear anything, we’ll let you know.’

‘Likewise, Mr Stellion,’ said Tom.

‘And you’re not to worry about your jobs here,’ George added gravely. ‘I know this is nothing to do with you and you’re no more to blame for this than Mrs Stellion and I are. Let’s carry on as best we can. There’ll be gossip, but it will affect you in the village more directly than us, though we’ll have our own share of it to face elsewhere, you may be sure of that.’

‘We’ll not be fanning any flames against James,’ said Tom, reading the subtext correctly. ‘We know nowt about owt for certain, and we’ll not be speculating either.’

‘Thank you, Tom. Now I think you should all go home and recover from this terrible shock.’

‘Yes, Mr Stellion … yes, sir …’ they murmured, and set off slowly down the drive.

When they got to the Lodge, Dora said she wanted some time to herself to think through all that had happened; she ambled off home up the lane, her shoulders bent under the weight of her worry, leaving Ellen and Tom to discuss what they could do.

‘Just when all was going right for Mum,’ said Ellen furiously, taking another sip of her tea. ‘She was only saying the other day how happy she was now she’s back at the cottage. I know it’s made a right big difference to her to have your friendship and support now Dad’s gone,’ she added shyly.

‘She’s made a difference to me, too, lass,’ said Tom. ‘Oh, if only Gina could behave herself, the little witch. I’d like to think she’s the innocent party in this and it’s all down to that scallywag James Stellion, but we both know Gina …’

‘Mm,’ said Ellen, as a strange idea began to seep into her mind, some half-remembered event she couldn’t quite pin down.

The next morning was a Saturday. Ellen worked in the garden on some Saturday mornings but, before she went to the Hall, she walked down into Little Grindle village to call on Betty Travers.