Peggy had just regaled them with the events of the previous day when Ron returned looking very purposeful. He glared at the laughing women, grunted something unintelligible in response to their teasing, and shot back down to his basement bedroom.

Harvey was soaked through and slumped down by the fire with a deep sigh to quietly steam dry and fill the room with the less than delightful pong of damp dog.

‘Poor old boy,’ said Peggy, reaching for a scrap of towel to dry him off. ‘You’ve been out all day and must be exhausted.’

Harvey’s eyes were beseeching as he rolled on his back for her to rub his tummy, and then went to sit by his empty bowl.

Peggy took the hint and scraped some of the leftovers into it, before putting the kettle back on for another pot of tea.

Harvey made short work of the scraps and then collapsed by the fire again, nose on paws as Queenie curled up against his belly.

Ron returned to the kitchen half an hour later looking very smart in his suit and greatcoat, Jim’s dark blue fedora set at a jaunty angle above one shaggy brow. ‘I’m off to the pub,’ he muttered. ‘Come on, Harvey.’

Harvey opened one eye, wriggled his brows, and promptly went back to sleep.

‘It looks like you’re on your own,’ chuckled Peggy. ‘Good luck.’

‘To be sure I shouldn’t have bothered getting up today,’ Ron grumbled before heading outside again and slamming the door behind him.

His departure triggered a bustle of fetching belongings and dressing once more for the outdoors. The afternoon had sped past and none of them had realised just how late it was. Peggy followed them down the path, holding tightly to Daisy’s hand as she waved them goodbye at the gate.

Peggy stood there until they’d gone out of sight, and then turned back towards the house. There was still no sign of Rita or Sarah, and with the grey day closing in and the foghorn once more moaning out at sea, her concern for little Rita deepened. She was in a fragile state of late having lost her beloved Matthew, and Peggy was apprehensive that seeing Jack might have done more harm than good to Rita’s state of mind.

Hurrying back into the kitchen, she glanced again at the clock. ‘If Rita isn’t back by the time I’ve got Daisy in bed, I’m going out to look for her,’ she said to Cordelia.

‘But where would you start?’ Cordelia asked fretfully. ‘This is a big town now, and if she’s gone out on that motorbike, she could be anywhere.’