‘Exactly. Just leave it right where it is. Forget you even saw it. It’s nowt to do with you.’

‘Gina, you’re scaring me. And what’s it got to do with you? How do you know all this?’

Gina said nothing but let go of Ellen’s arm. She knew it was safe to do so now.

‘Tell me!’

‘Because I put it there,’ Gina said defiantly.

Ellen opened her mouth to reply but found herself speechless. She looked into her sister’s violet eyes, so like her own, except now the expression in them was as hard as flint. She wanted to tell Gina to stop being silly, that this kind of trick wasn’t funny and she was spoiling their afternoon, but even as she thought this, a cloud passed before the sun, the bright May day grew instantly chilly and she shivered to see the change in Gina’s face as a shadow passed over it, her prettiness transformed. She looked dangerous. Worse, she looked unhinged.

Without another word, both girls passed through the gate and Gina placed the loop back over the post to secure it. Ellen avoided even a glance at the cleft in the wall. Gina strode determinedly off down the track towards the henhouses, scattering hens as she approached, while Ellen followed slowly, fearful of what she had seen and heard. It was like a bad daydream that had tainted the day.

When she reached the back door of Highview Cottage, Gina was already in the garden watering the herb bed from a heavy metal can, pointedly ignoring her, and Ellen lifted the latch and went inside alone, her mind buzzing with questions she knew better than to ask just yet.

Dora Arnold opened the back door to her home to be greeted with the smell of baking bread.

‘Hello, Mum. All right? I thought I’d get a loaf on as Mr Beveridge gave Gina and me the afternoon off,’ said Ellen, deliberately not quite telling the entire truth about the half-day holiday. She knew her mother worried that Gina would never come to any good with her poor attitude to work, and she didn’t want to stir up trouble now, with Dora looking so tired.

‘You’re a good lass, Nellie. And is that a fresh pot of tea under the cosy? Better and better …’

Dora pulled off her outdoor shoes and put on the sandals she wore around the house, sighing and groaning as she eased her tired feet and then her weary back.

‘Here, Mum.’ Ellen handed her mother a mug of copper-coloured tea with plenty of sugar in it. ‘Don’t keep me in suspense. Did Uncle Tom tell Mr Stellion I wanted to try out as his assistant in the garden?’

‘He asked Mr Stellion if he’d agree to give you a chance, yes. And he said … he would!’