I’d no idea Edgar had heard me or that he’d stopped in the yard until I heard Nelly calling out to him.

“Miss Catherine is dreadfully wicked, sir. You’d best ride home.”

Her words had the opposite effect to what she’d intended.

Edgar turned on his heel and came back in. My storm of tears took a long time to subside. He sat beside me, cradling me in his arms, kissing my hair, whispering soothing words into my ear. Edgar thought Heathcliff had caused my ill temper. He believed I was ashamed of myself and I was miserable because I regretted my outlandish behaviour. Edgar thought I wept for fear of losing him. And I let him think those things. The more I cried for Heathcliff, the more in love Edgar thought I was with him. The more I raged about how Heathcliff had been treated, the more Edgar professed his love for me. By the time Hindley came storming home – crazed, drunk and screaming for someone to beat – Edgar had asked me to be his wife.

At the first sound of Hindley’s homecoming, Edgar fled for his horse and I fled to my chamber. I could hear everything that followed through the floorboards.

Hareton was terrified of his father. It was Nelly’s habit to hide him away when Hindley came home, but that night she did not do it fast enough. Hindley caught her in the act and all hell broke loose. He grabbed Nelly first and threatened her with a carving knife.

Then Hindley lost interest in killing Nelly and turned his attention on his son. He tried to cuddle the boy, but Hareton wriggled and wailed as if everything in hell was after him. Hindley’s mood switched once more. He decided Hareton was a changeling in need of a haircut. Hindley carried his son up the stairs to find a pair of scissors. At that moment, Heathcliff came in and Hindley swung round. Hareton made one last attempt to break free and slipped from his father’s grasp, tumbling over the bannister.

The boy’s brains would have been dashed out on the flagstone below had not Heathcliff caught him.

Hindley must have seen how close he’d come to killing his son, despite his drunkenness. He left Hareton alone after that. Hindley went back down the stairs, took more brandy from the dresser and then retired to his room to drink himself into a stupor.

Nelly sat trying to soothe the terrified, whimpering child.

I had a sudden desperate desire to be soothed too. I was so very troubled. I had succeeded in the plan I’d made at twelve years old. But now, at fifteen, the plan did not look quite so simple as it had then. The day’s events weighed on my chest like a millstone. If I didn’t ease the weight by talking to another human soul, my ribs would be crushed. There was no one but Nelly. She’d have to do.