In the meantime, the stolen items she’d brought with her from Grindle Hall were still in the shopping bag and hidden at the back of a drawer in her room. She wasn’t quite sure what to do about them now, and was putting off making a decision. It wasn’t too late, surely, to take them to Bella, but she was still angry with James and reluctant to do as he’d asked when he was so selfish. She could never forgive him for losing her her job, or for speaking of ‘my place in Pimlico’, deliberately misleading her into thinking he lived in a splendid mansion when it turned out to be nothing more than lodgings.

She wondered whether to look around and see if there was someone else – an antiques dealer, maybe – who would be interested in buying the stolen things, but with no idea of their value, she would be entirely in the hands of the dealer and, she couldn’t help thinking, probably cheated out of their true worth. It wasn’t that she needed the money, but she didn’t like the thought of being cheated. She still had all the cash she’d brought with her and her weekly wages more than covered all her needs. Even so, it might be a good idea to get rid of the things. They were no use in a drawer and the longer she kept them the more chance there was of someone discovering them and asking awkward questions.

In August a couple and their daughter came to stay at the Merrylife. Mr and Mrs Hanson looked quite old to have a child of about twelve, Gina thought, and their appearance was old-fashioned and staid. Their daughter was called Mavis, and Gina felt sorry for her, with her unstylish clothes, more suitable to someone five times her age, and her unfashionable name. Mavis sat sullen and silent between her parents at dinner the first evening, pushing the vegetarian food about her plate, looking as though she was in custody and wanting to escape.

The food at the Merrylife was, to Gina’s amazement, delicious, but she knew it wasn’t everyone’s idea of tempting when the very idea of a dinner without meat or fish was an oddity to most people.

Breakfast on the Hansons’ first morning was a repeat of the evening before, with Mavis looking as if she was enduring the experience, and her parents tense and nervous, as if they weren’t used to eating away from home.

Of course, Mary and Ruth were kindness itself.

‘Have you plans for the day, Mrs Hanson?’ Ruth asked.

Mr and Mrs Hanson looked at each other. ‘Er, no, not really. We thought we might look round the shops a bit,’ Mrs Hanson said, ‘and maybe sit and look at the sea.’

‘Lovely!’ cooed Ruth. ‘And what about you, Mavis?’

Mavis evidently wasn’t used to being consulted and was tongue-tied.