I know how hard it has all been for you, too, but at least you have been able to put everything behind you, focus on the future. I’m too worn out with torturing myself about it, too beaten down by my guilt. I need to find peace and this is the only way.

I will always love you. And I’ll be waiting for you. Stay strong until we meet again. I know you’ll be able to carry on.

Forever yours,

Frank

‘Jesus Christ.’ The colour had drained from Jack’s face. ‘Who’d have thought it?’ He put down the letter and turned to look at me, his hand reaching for his throat.

I felt empty as I stared at the piece of paper resting between us. ‘I don’t know how to feel – what to think. But whatever they may have done, the Barleys paid for it in the worst possible way. I suppose no one can help who they fall in love with. It’s just how they choose to deal with it, and it seems they stumbled from one horrendous mistake to the next. At the end of the day, the only ones who really suffered were them – and poor little William.’

Everything made sense now. The wording of Frank Barley’s letter had not spelled it out exactly, but it was blatantly obvious why he had lived under such a cloud. Taking his own life must have been a blessed release. His whole existence, particularly as a man of religious conviction, would have been overshadowed by their last taboo and its shocking ramifications. It was feasible that Joseph, as the result of an incestuous relationship, was damaged in some way by his unnatural genes. Perhaps this explained, if not excused, his behaviour. Maybe the other babies would have had some sort of problems too, had they survived. The thought made my head swim and I didn’t want to dwell on it.

I thought of Mrs Barley – but then, she hadn’t been Mrs Barley, had she? The person that I’d believed her to be didn’t really exist. At that moment, it seemed like such a betrayal. I felt I’d never really known her at all. So many half-truths; so much that no one outside their insular little world had been privy to. The slow realisation of everything that had gone on in the Barleys’ home made my stomach roil. The times I had blithely left my precious daughter in the old lady’s care, not knowing that her estranged, unstable son could visit at any time. I thought of little William’s fate and swallowed down the bile that had risen in my throat.