Gina paused on the pavement to gather herself. Come on, it’s only stupid old Thwaite, with a broken arm. She’s not going back to work at the Hall and now all you have to do is tell her that.

Gina straightened her back, opened the gate and marched up to the front door. She rapped on the knocker and waited. Would it be Mrs Thwaite who answered, or her sister, Mrs Hillier? Either way, Gina had her visit planned.

It was Mrs Thwaite who opened the door.

Promising so far.

‘Good heavens, Gina Arnold, what do you want?’ said Mrs Thwaite, her face betraying that she thought this was a nasty surprise. She stood with her good arm on the door latch, the other in a bulky plaster cast supported in a sling.

‘I’ve come to visit you, of course,’ said Gina in a friendly tone, and was over the threshold with the door shut behind her before Mrs Thwaite could stop her. ‘And Mrs Hillier, if she’s in?’

‘No, my sister’s out at work this afternoon,’ said Mrs Thwaite before she realised she’d played into Gina’s hands.

‘What a shame. So it’s just us, then?’ Gina’s voice now had a dangerous edge to it and Mrs Thwaite looked even more unhappy. Since her accident she’d lost her appetite and appeared drawn and shrunken: a little old lady. Gina deliberately stood tall, knowing she towered over her.

‘What have you come for?’ Mrs Thwaite asked, fear in her eyes despite her bossy tone.

‘I told you: to see you; to see how you’re doing. I thought we might have a little talk, Mrs Thwaite; discuss how things are.’

‘What do you mean, Gina Arnold?’

‘I think, Mrs Thwaite, that you might want to sit down. I’ve got some bad news for you.’

Mrs Thwaite turned paler. ‘W-What news? What do you mean?’

‘Shall we go in here, then?’ said Gina, seeing a door ajar off the narrow little hall. Obviously it was the sitting room. She propelled Mrs Thwaite by her good arm into the room, where she sank fearfully into an armchair. This allowed Gina to stand over her, which was exactly what she wanted.

‘What news?’ asked Mrs Thwaite, tremulously. ‘Is someone dead?’

Gina laughed. The old woman was in a right flap now. ‘Oh, no, nothing like that. At least not yet,’ Gina added daringly, enjoying herself. ‘No, the news is that you won’t be returning to Grindle Hall.’

‘But Mrs Stellion said—’

‘Mrs Stellion may have said one thing, but she’ll be saying quite another when she hears what is hidden in your wardrobe.’

Mrs Thwaite gasped and her hand went to her mouth. ‘No … Oh, no …’

‘Oh, yes, Mrs Thwaite. Seems you’ve been found out and that’s sealed your fate.’