‘Perhaps you really could sweep the sitting-room carpet before you go, then.’

‘Yes, Mum,’ Gina answered, thinking she’d really better go to the farm to tell Mrs Beveridge she wouldn’t be back. She also wanted to find out if any more sheep had been found dead. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if they had, but at least if the news was good she wouldn’t have to think about the stupid sheep again.

After she’d waved her mother and sister off, she rode the bicycle up to Highview Farm. Edward Beveridge was just coming out of the back door as Gina propped the bike against the farmhouse wall. He was a good-hearted, tall, big-boned young man with a ruddy complexion, the apple of his parents’ eyes. He was particularly friendly with Ellen, and Gina thought, first, that he was a bit in love with her, and second, that he was a bit stupid.

‘Gina …’ he greeted her brusquely, but the smart bicycle caught his attention and made him pause.

‘Ed, hello.’ She couldn’t help herself: ‘What do you think of the new bike?’

‘It’s right smart. Pinched it, did you?’

‘No I did not! Mrs Stellion lent it to me. It belongs to her daughter.’

‘Does she know?’

‘Who, Diana Stellion? I doubt it. She’s not there.’

‘No, I meant Mrs S. Does she know she’s lent it to you?’

Gina gave Ed a long look. ‘It’s nowt to do with you anyway,’ she muttered.

‘If you’ve come to work you’re wasting your time. Mum says she can’t rely on you and she’d rather not be wondering whether you’re going to bother to turn up of a morning.’

‘Oh, but I came to tell her I won’t be here no more.’

‘I’ve already told you that, Gina, didn’t you hear me? She’s giving you the sack.’

‘What …?’

‘You might want to collect your pay for the few hours you’ve worked this week before you disappear, though.’

‘I might. Or I might not bother,’ said Gina, furious, ‘seeing as I’ve a new job up at the Hall. Mrs B can’t sack me if I’ve already left.’

‘True,’ said Ed slowly, as if considering the point. ‘But I reckon it’s good riddance whichever way she looks at it.’ He walked away, saying over his shoulder, ‘I’ll see you about, no doubt, Gina.’

‘Not if I see you first,’ Gina flung at him.