Dora busied herself making a pot of tea while Ellen disappeared up to her room. Dora had just put the knitted cosy over the brown pot when there was a furious cry from upstairs. She rushed over and shouted up.

‘Nellie, are you all right? What’s the matter, love?’

‘Oh, Mum,’ wailed Ellen, appearing at the top of the stairs wearing her ancient petticoat with nothing over it. ‘Gina’s taken my frock and my skirt. She’s even taken the only cardi I’ve got without holes in the sleeves. She’s left me with nowt to wear!’

CHAPTER SEVEN

GINA LIKED PLAYING at being housekeeper. That’s how the job felt to her: that she was playing the role. It had all the fresh appeal of novelty, but there was a constant thought at the back of her mind that the position wasn’t a permanent one and that she’d be demoted back to dog walker as soon as Mrs Thwaite returned. That prospect was very disheartening. In the week since the rainstorm, she’d heard only that Mrs Thwaite was out of hospital and had gone to stay with her sister in Great Grindle.

‘How is Mrs Thwaite?’ she asked Mrs Stellion one morning in early June, hoping to hear bad news for Mrs Thwaite and good news for herself.

‘I gather she’s finding it quite difficult to manage with her broken arm,’ Mrs Stellion replied. ‘It’s kind of you to ask. I think I should go and visit her. Her sister hasn’t got a telephone, so I’ll have to write and suggest a day. I’ll do that now, so please would you post my letter for me when you take Coco for his walk?’

‘Of course, Mrs Stellion.’

Gina considered not posting the letter, leaving Mrs Thwaite feeling abandoned by her employers, but then she herself would not learn whether Mrs Thwaite was recovering, and how quickly. She realised she needed to know how the land lay. Before she went out with Coco, she made a note of the address at which Mrs Thwaite was staying. Depending on the news, she might even visit the lady herself …

‘I have news of Mr Shepherd,’ Tom told Ellen as they set dahlias in the herbaceous border.

‘Oh, is he all right? I’ve been thinking of him and, what with him being quite old, I’m worried that we won’t be seeing him in the library van any more.’

But Tom’s mind was first and foremost on the job in hand. ‘This one’s got a bit pot-bound. Here, let me show you how to tease the roots out … There, now I’d dig a bit deeper if I were you … He’s got a bad hip and he’s been finding driving the van and sitting at the desk all day very painful, so he’s had to give it up.’