‘I DON’T CARE!’ bellowed Marcella. ‘The McKinnons treated us like dirt, I can’t believe you even—’

‘I won’t see him again,’ Maddy blurted out, because what other choice did she have? This time, for Marcella’s sake, it had to happen. She couldn’t put it off any longer. Trembling, meeting Marcella’s icy gaze, she nodded and said, ‘I mean it, I’ll never see him again, just don’t shout any more, you know what the doctor said about staying calm and not getting worked up.’

‘Promise me.’ Marcella reached urgently for Maddy’s hands.

What else could she do?

‘I promise,’ whispered Maddy.

That was it; all over now.

Marcella hugged her, tears spilling from her luminous dark eyes.

‘You don’t need someone like that. Come on, let’s go home.’

As she followed Marcella back through the sun-dappled graveyard, Maddy thought, Oh, but I do.

Checking her watch – twenty to two – Maddy dropped Marcella home and headed back into the centre of Ashcombe. Juliet wasn’t expecting her back in the shop before two. Pulling up alongside Snow Cottage, she saw Jake sitting at one of the tables in front of the pub, drinking a pint of orange juice and chatting to Malcolm, who sold his surreal paintings from the workshop next to his. By sitting outside, they were able to take a lunch break and keep an eye out for passing potential customers.

Fury boiled up inside Maddy at the unfairness of it all. How dare bloody Jake sit there without a care in the world when her own life was collapsing around her ears?

Leaping out onto the pavement, slamming the driver’s door so hard it almost parted company with the car, she marched across the road.

Did you tell Marcella?’

Jake looked up, surprised.

‘Tell Marcella about what?’

‘So you didn’t?’ said Maddy, double-checking. She wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

Comprehension dawned. Jake, his eyebrows shooting up, said, ‘You mean she found out about Kerr McKinnon?’

Right, that was all the confirmation she needed. Marching past him into the pub, Maddy saw Kate behind the bar, wearing a lime-green sleeveless linen top and her customary superior smirk.

‘Well done,’ Maddy said loudly, not caring that there were customers in the pub. Since there was no longer any secret to keep, she could be as loud as she jolly well liked.

Turning, Kate said, ‘Excuse me?’ in that irritatingly disinterested way of hers.

‘I asked you not to tell Marcella and you told her. I explained why I asked you not to tell her,’

Maddy went on furiously, ‘but you went ahead and did it anyway.’

‘I—’

‘What the bloody hell’s going on?’ Dexter, his eyes flashing, had loomed up behind Kate.

‘Ask your new barmaid,’ Maddy spat back, aware that everyone was staring at the red, hand-shaped slap mark Marcella had imprinted on her cheek. ‘But let me just say, if my mother doesn’t have a miscarriage it’ll be no thanks to her.’ Pointing a trembling finger at Kate, who was looking gobsmacked and clearly hadn’t expected to be confronted like this in public, she went on, ‘My God, I knew you didn’t like me, but even I never thought you’d sink this low. I mean, it doesn’t matter that you’ve ruined my life, but how you could do this to Marcella, I’ll never know.’

It was just as well there weren’t any customers in the deli. Maddy was sitting on a crate in the back room shaking uncontrollably, raging against the world and knocking back a miniature of Amaretto.

Jake, strolling into the shop, said, ‘Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself.’

‘Oh, bugger off, don’t you start.’ Maddy glared at him. ‘She deserved it.’

‘Did she? I’ve just been to see Marcella.’

‘Oh no.’ Juliet, who had been attempting to console Maddy, said, ‘You mean it wasn’t Kate?’

The look of disdain on Jake’s face began to make Maddy feel queasy. ‘It has to have been her. It definitely couldn’t be Nuala, not after last time.’

‘At midday, Marcella was doing exactly what the doctor had told her to do,’ said Jake. ‘She was taking things easy, relaxing, just having a cup of tea and watching the local lunchtime news. When up came a piece on careers for school leavers, and guess whose company they were featuring today?’

Maddy’s mouth was dry. There had been no cameras around while she’d been in the offices of Callaghan and Fox last Friday.

‘I know. It’s where Kerr works,’ she told Jake. ‘So? It’s not as if he keeps a photo of me on his desk.’

‘Maybe not, but several of the staff had stuff from here on their desks,’ said Jake. ‘Marcella recognised the blue and white wrappers at once.’

He was being deliberately maddening, Maddy decided. ‘And? That doesn’t prove anything.’

‘Oh my God,’ whispered Juliet, her hand sliding from Maddy’s shoulder. ‘Oh no, please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.’

Her dark eyes were fixed on Jake, willing him to come up with a happier alternative.

Signalling regret, he shook his head.

‘What?’ Maddy demanded. ‘What?’

Faintly, Juliet said, ‘It was me.’

‘WHAT?’

‘The wrappers didn’t prove you were having an affair with Kerr McKinnon,’ said Jake, ‘but they were certainly enough to bring Marcella down here, demanding to know what this deli was doing supplying sandwiches to his company, when just the other day you swore you had no idea where he worked.’

‘I’m sorry,’ groaned Juliet. ‘The way Marcella said it, I thought she already knew everything.’

‘Oh hell.’ Maddy buried her head in her hands. ‘I don’t believe this is happening.’

‘I’m really sorry,’ Juliet repeated helplessly.

‘Not you. It was an accident. I suppose something like this was bound to happen sooner or later.’ Maddy reached across and clumsily hugged Juliet, who was looking utterly distraught. ‘I just can’t bear the thought of having to apologise to Miss Smirky-knickers.’

‘You’re going to have to,’ said Jake, so reasonably that Maddy longed to punch him.

Abruptly, all the adrenalin seeped out of her body and delayed shock set in. Her eyes filling with tears of exhaustion, she said, ‘I know I do. Oh fuck.’

Chapter 30

Kate was doing her best to carry on working, but it wasn’t going well. Aware of Dexter’s beady gaze upon her, she fumbled in the till drawer for change and handed it over to Abel Trippick, whose eyes promptly widened with delight. As he scuttled away from the bar clutching his pint of Blackthorn, Dexter said, ‘You just gave him eight quid change from a fiver.’

‘Sorry.’ Swallowing hard, Kate began clearing away empties. ‘I’ll pay you back.’

‘I thought you were more than a match for Maddy Harvey.’

‘So did I. Oh God—’ Kate made a grab for one of the half-pint mugs as it slipped out of her hand, but it was too late. The glass shattered on the flagstones and she braced herself for the inevitable explosion of fury from Dexter.

Instead, his tone conversational, Dexter said, ‘If I shout at you, will you shout back?’

Blindly, Kate shook her head. No.’ It came out as a croak, like a frog phoning in sick.

‘Oh well, no point in bothering then. Shift your bottom,’ Dexter said brusquely, and tears began to slide down Kate’s cheeks as she realised he was kneeling down, wielding a dustpan and brush and clearing up the mess.

Then she jumped as a warm hand came to rest on her arm and a familiar voice said, ‘Hey, it’s all right.’

Could have fooled me, thought Kate as Jake peered over the bar and said to Dexter, ‘It’s almost closing time. OK if I take this one home with me?’

Dexter straightened up. Finally he shrugged. ‘May as well. She’s not much use here.’

‘Who says I want to go home with you?’ Kate looked truculent, but it was a token show of protest. Flashing a grin, Jake raised the wooden flap that formed part of the bar and drew her through to his side.

‘OK, here’s the thing. Maddy shouldn’t have shouted at you, she knows she has to apologise, but she’s in a bit of a state right now, what with everything hitting the fan the way it did. So if you wouldn’t mind, she’d like to make her grovelling apologies later.’ As he spoke, he was leading her towards the door.

Kate said suspiciously, ‘So why are you taking me home?’

‘Because damsels in distress are my speciality. Besides,’ Jake gestured over the road to where Malcolm was now sitting with a sketchpad outside his workshop, ‘any excuse for an afternoon off.’

Dauncey House was cool and empty, with Oliver up in London as usual and Estelle off on one of her periodic half-hearted health and fitness kicks. This involved paying a visit to the ruinously expensive gym to which she belonged, gingerly attempting a few exercises on the less terrifying machines, then greeting her female friends with delight and repairing to the terrace for a good gossip over salad and a Diet Coke. Since this left them feeling every bit as virtuous as two hours on the treadmill, and involved far less sweating, it was a popular pastime amongst the wealthy wives who went there during the afternoon. Estelle was unlikely to be back before five.

‘Hey, damsel, you’ve got mascara on your cheeks.’

They were in the kitchen. Kate instinctively made a move towards the downstairs cloakroom to wash her face, but Jake stopped her. Running a piece of kitchen towel under the tap, he drew her towards him and gently rubbed at the black marks under her eyes. Realising that he was removing the carefully applied scar concealer at the same time, Kate tried to pull away but Jake shook his head and said,