‘So how did you pay your train fare to Blackburn, when you ran away from the Merrylife because you thought Mary and Ruth might call the police over you being robbed?’ asked Tom with a severe look on his face. ‘How did you pay for a place to stay before we came to get you from Mr Simmonds’ shop?’

‘Well, I … sort of borrowed some money from Mary and Ruth …’

‘“Sort of borrowed”? You mean you stole it, you wicked creature,’ said Ellen. ‘After all they did for you, you took advantage of their kindness and their trusting natures. Mary suspected you were “troubled”, she said. Well, Gina, you’re not troubled, you’re just trouble, and the way you repaid their kindness goes to prove it.’

‘No, I meant to pay it back when—’

‘When you sold those stolen items to that nice Mr Simmonds? Gina, I despair of you; you’re just a liar!’

‘Nell, please …’ murmured Dora, looking stricken that her girls were quarrelling so soon after Gina had come home.

‘Mum, I think you need to tell Gina our news now,’ said Ellen.

‘Yes, you’re right, love. I needed you home, Gina, love, to make sure you were safe and because you have to face up to what you’ve done, but I also need you here to tell you some sad news. I’m afraid your father is dead.’

Gina looked puzzled, as if she couldn’t understand what her mother was saying. No one spoke and eventually she said, ‘When? How?’

‘About two weeks ago, in the asylum. He had a stroke and died, love.’

Gina put her hands to her mouth. ‘Oh! Oh, no. I’d kind of forgotten about the spell. Once Dad was gone to the madhouse, I thought that was it and we were rid of him that way.’

‘W-what do you mean?’ asked Dora, remembering what Betty had told her had happened in the fortune-telling booth at the fête, but keen to learn the truth from Gina. ‘Rid of him how? What spell?’

Gina was looking very serious. ‘I didn’t really mean to kill him,’ she said quietly. ‘I knew the spells took time to work, and sometimes they worked not always in the ways I thought they would, but when … when the sheep died, I thought that was the end of that one. And then when he hit you, I was that cross and I made another … and now he’s dead.’

‘What are you talking about?’ snapped Dora, frightened. ‘Talk sense!’

‘I was going to make a new start after I’d sold the last of the stolen things: start again somewhere and try to be good, and now … now I’ve killed Dad as well as Mrs Thwaite.’

‘Killed them? What nonsense is this?’ demanded Dora, losing patience completely.