‘Don’t you use that tone with me, Ellen Arnold, or I’ll—’

‘You’ll what? You’ll hit me, too?’

‘Aye, like that.’ He gave her a hard slap to match the one he’d given Dora. ‘Only harder.’

‘Right, that’s it,’ said Dora, as Ellen now clutched her throbbing face. ‘I’ve had enough. I’m fed up of you hitting us, like we were beasts of the field being kept in line. We’ve done nowt wrong, we’ve just been out for the evening with our friends, and if you had any friends yourself you might have wanted to come too. You’re in a stupid rage because you had to heat your own tea for once in your miserable life. A child could have managed it, but you had to get all mardy about it and spoil the evening, just because you’re jealous that we had a nice time and you’re feeling left out.’

‘Jealous? Mardy? Your place is here, getting my tea after I’ve been working all day, not making a spectacle of yourself at the village hall, giving away money like Lady Muck.’

‘Spectacle of myself?’ Dora, outraged, shrugged off wise caution. ‘What on earth are you on about now? I sat and played cards with my friends and drank a cup of tea. Then I came home. That’s when the spectacle started. The only person making a spectacle of themselves is you, Phil. As for giving away money, it was a fundraiser. The whole point is to give money.’

‘My money—’

‘No, my money. Wages that I earned working at the Hall, the bit I keep to have my hair done at Christmas or get a bit of wool to knit up. You wouldn’t even have noticed it was gone because it wasn’t ever yours to start with.’

‘Mebbe I’m allowing you to keep too much if you can afford to give it away like some spendthrift,’ snapped Philip.

‘You’ve a daft answer for everything tonight, haven’t you?’ said Dora. ‘I can do nowt right.’

‘You said it, woman.’

‘Come on, Nell,’ said Dora, putting her coat back on. ‘We’re off. Don’t forget your torch.’

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ shouted Philip as his wife and daughter made for the door. He tried to get to them to bar the way, but the spilled stew and the broken basin impeded his progress. Seeing that, Dora gathered Ellen close and they stepped quickly aside just as Philip kicked a large, deadly-looking shard of the broken basin at them. It missed Dora’s ankle by half an inch and hit the foot of the dresser, coming to rest like an unsheathed knife.