The Edge, Chapter 4. A Rowansford story

“You know what?” Alice said, kneading dough vigorously. “All that cleaning and painting we did for Anita has made me realise how shabby this place has become.”
“I was thinking that too,” Jacob admitted. “We’ve let things slide somewhat here.”
They both fell silent, knowing why they’d not had either the heart or the energy to spruce up the paintwork, or indeed do anything beyond the bare essentials. “I enjoyed doing all that sewing for Anita. I think I’ll make some new curtains for in here – I found fabric I’d forgotten I owned.”
“Then I’ll have to paint the windows, or your new curtains will put them to shame!”
Alice laughed at Jacob’s tone of voice.
"I’ll help you when I’ve done the curtains. You’ve got by far the harder task. Remember the first year we were married….?” “I bet Anita would be willing to help too,” Jacob said thoughtfully, a piece of fresh-from-the-oven bread halfway to his mouth. “In fact, I think she’d be glad to: she won’t feel so indebted to us. She doesn’t want to be a burden to anyone – she’s very independent, that girl. I’m amazed she accepted the gift of that house.”
“I assumed it had been from Amy’s father,” Alice said, a little apologetic for even having thought about Anita’s business.
“No – those two cottages went with The Towers. That’s Elizabeth Alexander’s old place – remember her? Well, there’s no way her grandson produced a child as dark as Amy – and Hector’s only got daughters, so it isn’t one of his children who’s the father.” “But why would Hector Alexander give a house to Anita? There’s some deep mystery about Amy’s father, isn’t there? Still, it’s none of our business. And whatever it is, I’d trust Anita with everything we had.” This place really was a dump! No wonder Luke didn’t want to visit. But Lucilla hid her dislike of the shabby farmhouse, and concentrated on charming Alice and Jacob. Speaking well of Luke was an easy way into their good graces. Even Alice though, who was really not the nosy type, was bound to ask some questions about Lucilla herself. Lucilla had to decide how much to tell: she didn’t think Alice and Jacob would take kindly to her lying. But there were ways and ways of telling the truth.
“Yes, I was married once.” She kept her voice low and a little sad, eyes gazing back into a past that had promised well, but turned out so heartbreaking.
“I was very young – and he was much older than me. I think – I think it was my looks alone that attracted him. He didn’t want to know the person I was. And I – I had thought that marriage was about friendship, companionship, someone to share all your life with…” She let her voice tail away. Visiting again, a couple of days later, Lucilla noticed a little wooden horse on the floor.
“Oh, that’ll be from Amy,” Alice said.
“Amy?” Lucilla inquired sweetly – and watched as Alice’s face lit up with happiness describing Amy. She smiled back at her.
“She sounds lovely. Is she a great-niece or something?
“No – we met them a while back now. Jacob fell, out fishing, and Anita – Amy’s mother – helped him back home…”
As Lucilla listened, she became seriously worried. Whoever this Anita person was, she was obviously bent on worming her way in here. She’d probably spotted the Bardens as an easy target, ripe for swindling out of something.
“She’s coming over tomorrow to help Jacob and me with a few jobs – some things are easier with three…” Lucilla picked up the little horse and turned it over in her hands, her mind troubled. Alice saw it in her face, but drew the wrong conclusions.
“You didn’t have any children?” she asked gently.
“I had a son,” Lucilla replied, after some hasty thought, which Alice read as reluctance to speak of something painful. “But – his father took him when we split up. He had the job, the home, you see – and I - I had nothing. I don’t even know where they are now.” And that last bit was definitely true! Alice could read it any way she liked. “This is so kind of you,” Anita said, as the desert arrived on the table. In his own home, Archibald looked just the same as he had done when he’d dropped by the other day, but Flora looked very different. Gone was the smart two-piece suit with matching shoes, and in its place a gaudy riot of clashing colours and prints. Looking round at the walls of the big kitchen/dining room, Anita thought that they reflected Flora’s taste too. “It’s a pleasure to have you both here. And it means that we’ve prised Alice out of that kitchen of hers and forced her to eat a meal made for her by someone else!”
Amy looked up from her toys, wondering why everyone was laughing. While Jacob washed up, and Alice and Flora kept an eye on Amy, Archibald took Anita outside to see his workshop.
“You have to see it, Anita,” Jacob said. “Go on – I’ll see to these dishes.”
“This is amazing!” Anita said. “And you designed those games?”
“Yes – well, and others, but I kept those two because in their time they were ground-breaking.”
“Where did you study engineering?”
Archibald laughed. “Anita, I didn’t even pass the entrance exam to the Grammar School. I left at fifteen and got a job in the Tostead factory in the next town.” “You look a bit more like yourself than you did the other day,” Alice said, teasing her old friend affectionately.
“Oh that suit! But my revered next-door neighbour says it’s the height of good taste, and she should know.”
“You really don’t like Cynthia Harleston, do you?”
“Well – I think she’s a snob. She looks down on people – on Griselda because of her father, on Archie because he didn’t go to the Grammar School, on me because of where I grew up…” “I’ve never worked out how come Archibald didn’t pass the Grammar School exam – I always thought he was way cleverer than Jacob or me.”
Alice was trying to change the conversation, but Flora would have none of it.
“And I think that grand-daughter of hers, the blonde one – what’s her name? Oh yes, Daisy – I think she’s a bad influence on my grand-daughter. Poppy’s just getting sillier and sillier, and more and more obsessed with fashion. I think Daisy is Cynthia all over again.” Alice gave up and let Flora finish sounding off before she tried again with a new topic! Luke had come to Rowansford on the Friday night and joined Lucilla in the little cottage she’d rented for the week.
“That was nice of you, to call on my parents so often, when I know how busy you’ve been.”
“Oh Luke, they’re lovely people. It was a total pleasure for me. But…I am a bit worried about them.” “Worried? Are they not well?” He pulled Lucilla closer to him, enjoying the familiar scent of her perfume.
“No, nothing like that,” she said hastily. “They looked fine – better than ever, in fact. No, what’s worrying me is that I think someone might be trying to take advantage of them. There’s this single mother with her baby who’s been visiting them, worming her way into their affections – you know how kind your parents are. I’m worried that she’s just out for all she can get from them. But enough of that. Tell me about your week. Did you miss me? I missed you so much.” It wasn’t until much later that they talked about Luke’s parents again.
“What do you think I should do?” Luke asked. “Any ideas?”
“Well,” Lucilla said consideringly. “You could try calling on her and telling her in no uncertain terms that you won’t have her taking advantage of your parents.” She snuggled a little closer.
“You could be a little bit fierce maybe. If you let her know loud and clear that you’ve seen through her little game, that might stop her in her tracks.
Luke considered the idea for a while, and Lucilla said nothing. “Hmm. It might work, mightn’t it? But how can I find her?”
Lucilla had been to the farm, to check out who this woman was, and had recognised her instantly.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I know just where she lives.” Luke hadn’t meant to lose his cool. Just to be icily polite, but threatening – a sort of veiled menace. That would do the job nicely, he thought. But as he walked out from under the trees towards the little garden, he caught sight of Amy, and his heart contracted painfully in his chest. He knew that dress! It had belonged to his sister – their mother had made it for her, and it had been her favourite dress, her butterfly dress. She’d loved it so much that she’d kept it even after she’d both grown out of it and nearly worn it out.
Luke didn’t stop to think that actually this dress looked remarkably un-worn out. He just boiled over – his ever-present grief at Sarah’s death, his unexpressed guilt at not going to the farm any more; they all came to the surface at once. Which is why Anita was suddenly confronted by an irate stranger yelling at her.
“Listen to me, you money-grubbing little tramp! You and that snotty-nosed brat of yours can get your hooks out of my parents! You thought you were on to a nice cushy number there, didn’t you? Well, I’m wise to all your dirty little tricks, and you’re not going to get away with them. I want you out of Rowansford by the end of this month, or you’ll be so sorry.”

The Edge, Chapter 3. A Rowansford story

“What you are not going to do,” Alice said firmly, “is panic. Jacob and I – we’ve worked against the odds before now, and won through. We’re going to take a good hard look at what needs doing here, and see if we can do it.”
“The house is sound,” Jacob said. “No leaks, no damp patches. And you say you own it? No mortgage?”
“No. It’s mine.”
“Well, that’s a big plus too.” Alice took a long look at the kitchen.
“There’s nothing wrong with that cooker that blacklead and brass polish won’t sort out. And a coat of paint would take care of most other things. But I don’t think the walls are sound enough to take paint .”
“I could plaster them – a quick skim would do well enough. If Anita can brush them down for me – I’ll show you how to do it. It’s not too big an area – I can do this room and upstairs in a day. I’m not sure about that stove – but we do still have that old one of ours. Now are you glad I didn’t throw it away?” “New bedding. I’ll get the sewing machine out again. I’ve got plenty of odds and ends of fabric. We’ll paint the walls in here as well. And I’ll lend you a picture of two for downstairs – things to make the place look more lived in.” So while Jacob’s plaster dried on the walls, Anita learnt how to blacklead a stove.
“You’ll need these,” Alice had said, handing her a pair of Jacob’s overalls that she’d turned up. “This is one messy task. I remember it well!”
“You’re so good to me,” Anita said, almost in tears.
“Well, we don’t mean to see you chased out of your own home. Not when you’re doing so well by Amy,” Jacob said, almost cross. Alice’s sewing machine, and a bit of paint had made a huge difference to the bed and cot. When Anita tried to thank Alice again, Alice hushed her up.
“You know we lost our Sarah. And I never got to do this for her – or her baby. Let me do it for you instead. It’s nice to be wanted, needed.”
She didn’t mention Luke, but Anita could see that he no longer needed them, though there was no doubt that he still loved them. An orgy of cleaning, sanding and painting followed – Anita had never worked so hard! And if it hadn’t been for Alice having Amy round at the farm while she did her sewing, Anita would never have had the time to do it all either. Alice made some pretty curtains, lent Anita a clock, swopped playmats with her – “The blue looks better,” – and showed Anita how to get rid of the stains on the sink (and the bath, and the toilet as well). “We’ll have to do something about the door to your bathroom. If it’s all right with you, I suggest moving your front door to the bathroom, and putting a better front door on. We’ve got an old one in the attic…”
Anita laughed. “Let me guess. You knew it would come in useful one day!”
Jacob grinned, a little shame-faced. “But I was right! Alice has to admit that! If you take Amy over to her, I’ll make a start, and then you can paint upstairs when you’re back. I’ll get those doors done today, no problem.”
Three days to go – and they might just make it. Alice’s sewing, Jacob’s plastering, Anita’s painting – the bedroom was a very different place now. Alice brushed Anita’s thanks aside.
“I had the fabric in a trunk in the attic. I knew it would come in useful one day.”
Jacob put up a couple of shelves, and Alice unearthed some old and much-loved toys to go on it.
“Amy can have these. It would be nice to think that they were being played with again. That top, and the jack-in-the-box: they were mine when I was a child. I know you’ll take good care of them, my dear.” “I’ve brought the tools – today, we’re making a garden. Weeds out, fence up, plants in. What time are they coming tomorrow? Right – well, Alice and I might just well “happen” to drop by. Just play along with whatever we say. And if we can find someone else to rope in…Don’t worry, Anita – we won’t let you be pushed out. And no-one will take Amy from you.” “Alice, this is amazing! I can’t thank you both enough. You must be exhausted.”
“You’d think so, but I’ve got more energy than I’ve had for ages. The plants I’ve brought over for you should do fine for tomorrow – they might well take nicely, as long as you keep watering them. It’ll be all right, you’ll see.”
“And actually, Alice is really pleased to do all this for you, my dear, because it’s cleared out all this fencing from where I’d stored it!” Looking back on it, the whole visit was really quite funny. The social services lady had only just arrived and begun introducing herself and explaining the purpose of the visit when Jacob appeared. Anita suspected he had been hiding among the trees (she was right!) until the right moment. Amy nearly wriggled out of Anita’s arms in her eagerness to see Jacob, and he scooped her up and chatted to her, before turning and apologising to Anita’s visitor. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea Anita was expecting a visitor today – do forgive the interruption.”
Jacob’s twinkly-eyed charm was hard to resist, and Amy’s affection for him was unmistakeable.
“You forgot Amy’s book yesterday – I found it behind the settee. And I know it’s one of her favourite bed-time stories, so I thought I better drop it off.”
“Oh, Jacob, thank you so much! We were okay last night, but two nights in a row might be pushing it.” Anita was quick to pick up Jacob’s cue, and to thank him for the book he pulled out of his pocket for her.
“Worse a worse,” Amy chanted, seeing the picture of Little Miss Moppet on the cover of the book. They’d not been talking for long when two more visitors turned up: total strangers as far as Anita was concerned, but they were obviously part of Jacob and Alice’s plan. “Oh, how do you do? Let me introduce myself. I’m Archibald Pettistree, and this is my wife, Flora. And…?”
A lift of his eyebrow, and Anita had the pleasure of saying, “This is Ms Hapgood. From the Social Services. Someone,” and she emphasised the ‘someone’ heavily, “has apparently raised doubts about whether Amy is being properly looked after.”
She had to hand it to them both – they played it just right. “Amy? Not well looked after? That’s ridiculous! But – you have a job to do, and you’re quite capable of drawing your own conclusions. We’ll go, and leave you in peace. Anita, my dear, we only stopped by to say we’re not out on Sunday after all, so if you’re still free for lunch, we’d love to have you both over, as we originally planned.”
“Oh, thank you both. Yes, that would be lovely. The same time?”
“One o’clock,” Archibald nodded, and then they both left, waving goodbye to Amy who – thankfully – waved back. Alice didn’t appear until the visit was nearly over.
“Anita, my dear – the eggs I promised you. And thank you so much for all your help in the garden the other day.”
Anita listened in some disbelief as Alice transformed herself into the sort of gushing female that she wasn’t!
“Such a lovely child, Amy is,” Alice said, in response to a seemingly innocent question from Ms Hapgood. She’s been a little ray of sunshine in our lives right from the start, haven’t you my poppet.” Fortunately, Amy chose this moment to beam at Alice, and come out with one of her long and semi-intelligible sentences.
“Yes, you can play with the dolls’ house again next time you come and see us,” Alice said, and Amy clapped happily.
“You’ll be over as usual on Wednesday, won’t you, my dear? And Friday, I could really do with a hand if you’re free – but I mustn’t keep your visitor waiting.” “Who did you say you were, by the way – I didn’t quite catch it.”
And when Ms Hapgood had explained, Alice went into full-on anxious mode.
“Was this an anonymous tip? Because a few years back – actually, it must be about ten by now: how time flies – there was a spate of anonymous tip-offs to Social Services. No-one ever found out who was at the bottom of it, either, but someone was obviously out to make mischief. Ask one of the older staff – they’ll remember it. I do hope this isn’t the same person starting up again. That’s such a worrying thought…”
Eventually, Alice let Ms Hapgood escape her conversational clutches, and left Anita and Amy alone with her again. “We did it!” Jacob plonked a bottle of (very good) home-made wine on the table.
“We choked her off! She’s going to leave Anita and Amy alone! She actually practically apologised to Anita, but did the whole you-can-understand-we-have-to-be-most-careful routine.” He fetched some glasses and began pouring the wine.
“Oh Jacob, we do have some proper wine glasses, you know.”
“It’ll taste the same out of these,” Flora said, consolingly. “Is it your damson wine?”
And when Alice nodded, Archibald said, “Oh good.” “Here’s to valiant rescues!” Jacob said.
“I’ll drink to that,” Alice replied.
“We’d better have Amy and Anita over for that meal,” Archibald said, “in case she checks up. Will you two come as well – that’ll be nicer for them both.”
“I wonder who did tip off social services though? Do you think that anonymous nutcase is doing it again?” “I hope not,” Flora said gravely, thinking of the mayhem that had resulted from the previous spate of malicious accusations. Lucilla couldn’t believe her eyes. How had this happened? She’d seen the state of the place only a few weeks ago – who had helped her do all this? She was going to have to think of another plan – and fast. But first, she needed to win Luke’s parents over completely – they’d have to agree to leave the farm and go into an old people’s home or something pretty soon after the wedding. She’d visit them again, as soon as she could.

The Edge, Chapter 2. A Rowansford story.

“Fetch me a couple of jars of jam please, Jacob. I’m going up to see Griselda tomorrow. She’ll be glad of it.”
“What flavour?”
“She likes strawberry – and Anita and I made lots of that. Blackbery and apple too, I think.”
It was a while since the larder had been so well-stocked. Anita had been a huge help to Alice, Jacob thought. And Amy had brought a joy into Alice’s life that had been missing for a long time. What a good job he’d slipped and bumped his head – they might not have met otherwise! Griselda Tostead wasn’t the easiest person in Rowansford to get on with: there was no denying that! But she and Alice had been at primary school together, had been friends back in the time when, for both of them, life was full of possibilities and promise. And Alice alone knew the secret of the event that had blighted Griselda’s life and soured her for ever. And Griselda was always pleased to see Alice. While there was still one person she still liked, still cared about, she felt as though who she used to be hadn’t disappeared completely. She’d wept with Alice over the death of her daughter, and in her hurt had known that she still had a heart that cared, somewhere in there.
“So, tell me about Luke’s new girlfriend, now that you’ve met her.”
“Well,” Alice began, “we went out to The Mill tearooms…” “Luke was nervous, I could tell – but then he knows we don’t like that he’s sleeping with his girlfriend. You and I, Griselda, we grew up in another world, where no respectable girl would behave like that. Not openly, anyway! But Lucilla was really attentive to him – I liked that, liked that she was being thoughtful about him.” “She’s very pretty indeed. Luke couldn’t take his eyes off her for most of the time. Slim, blonde, long legs – and a rather short skirt! – but at least her dress wasn’t cut down to her navel. Jacob loved seeing his son look a bit happier.” “They do make a nice cup of tea at The Mill, I must say. Turns out Lucilla’s doing some research on Rowansford – and when she discovered Luke grew up there, she was amazed! She works for a magazine, and this is by way of being a freelance piece of work, so sometimes she’s too busy to work on it, but whenever she’s got some free time, she’s planning to come over. Jacob and I might see more of Luke than we have done for a while, which would be so lovely.” By the time she’d finished telling Griselda about Lucilla, all five cats were in the room, Trent purring away on her lap.
“He’s got a real soft spot for you,” Griselda said, stroking Tyne. “He’ll push the others off your lap if one of them gets there first. Why don’t you get a cat?”
“Well, we never had one because of the hens. Though we haven’t got hens any more. Maybe one day…” “Thank you for coming,” Griselda said. “And for the jam. I’ll enjoy that so much more than bought jam.”
It was a pity, Alice thought, that Griselda had had so much money. If she’d had to go out and earn her living, she’d have moved on from the hurt of so long ago, maybe made a better future for herself. She hugged her friend warmly, and promised to visit again soon.
“And you must come and see us too. You haven’t been down to the farm for a couple of years now.”
Not since Sarah’s funeral – it was more than two years now. “Well, that went very well, I think.”
“Your parents are real sweeties. You’re lucky to have them. I only wish…” Lucilla let the rest of her sentence trail artfully away.
“You know, you could ask my dad about the local history. He really does know a lot about it.”
“No – he’s a busy man. And if he spends time talking to me, that will be more for your mother to do on her own.” “Darling, one of the things that’s so lovely about you is the way you think more about other people than yourself.”
“Luke, thank you. I don’t deserve such a compliment, you know.” And Lucilla gazed at him soulfully, eyes big and appealing. “What do you think about us having hens again? Griselda got me thinking about it, saying why didn’t we have a cat? And we could always give Anita and Amy some of the eggs.”
Jacob smiled at his wife. “If you’d like hens, we could have them my dear. Would you like me to make you a hen house again?”
“Like the first one you made, just after we were married, out of old packing cases?”
“Well now, there’s a coincidence. Because we do happen to have some, and it would use them up…” “Well, do you like your new hen house?”
“Jacob, you old softie. You’ve painted hearts on it, just like you did on that first one you made for me.”
“Well, I still love you as much now as I did then. More, in fact, now I come to think about it…” “Jacob, I love it! You’re so clever.”
Anita – and Amy – definitely approved of the hen house and its new inhabitants. In fact Amy had to be scooped up hastily before she climbed inside it! Which the hens would not have appreciated – and although they had nice soft feathers, they also had sharp beaks. “That reminds me,” Alice said, hens fed and eggs collected. “There’s something I need to ask you.”
Although Alice was quieter than Jacob, she wasn’t normally this hesitant. “Ask anything,” Anita said, smiling reassuringly. “I can always say I’d rather not talk about it, but you aren’t going to offend me.” Little by little over the months, she and Alice had got to know each other better.
“Well – I get the impression that you don’t really want anybody knowing about you and Amy, don’t want anyone interfering.”
“No, I don’t. Was someone asking around about me?” Anita’s voice was suddenly sharp with worry.
“No, no, nothing like that,” Alice said hastily. “It was the grand-daughter of an old friend of ours, doing some research for a history project for school. And young Bryony’s stepson. They were interested in the houses up on The Edge. Jacob and I, we steered them over to the Haslingfield estate houses instead.” “Thank you,” Anita said. “I don’t want just anybody knowing about us. I mean, I know we’re managing okay, and Amy’s fine – but I don’t want some busy-body saying where we’re living isn’t suitable.”
Alice understood – and agreed with Anita.
“The conditions I heard about when I was a child, from my parents – your place would be like a palace compared to what people were living in then. They’ve been knocked down now, a long while since, but there were some terrible slum properties, down by the river where the new laboratories are now. One toilet for the whole street, one water pump…even when I was a child, and the worst of them had been cleared away, I wasn’t allowed to go down there.” Lucilla was heading for the library again. She’d sent Luke off to meet up with his parents.
“Go and see them without me. They love you so much, Luke – and they miss you too. We’ve got a long weekend together here – give your parents some of it.”
“Lucilla, you’re so thoughtful.”
That meant a lot to Luke, she could tell. She’d smiled up at him from the circle of his arms.
“Give them my love. And – you could ask them if it would be all right for me to call on them sometime? I don’t want to be pushy – but I’d love to get to know them better.” She went to the bookcase with the maps in the drawers. She knew which one she needed to study – and she couldn’t do it with Luke around. With him, she had to keep up the pretence of being interested in the history of Rowansford – and that had proved useful, when it came to finding out who owned what.. It was a big aerial photograph, and it showed the lie of the land beautifully clearly. There was the Bardon’s farm and the land attached to it – farmed by someone else now, but still owned by them. Then the four big houses, with their land, all unoccupied, and one nearly falling down. There were a handful of old estate cottages, all unoccupied as well. Once she’d married Luke – and finished persuading the owners of the other houses to sell – then she could sell the whole parcel to a firm of developers, and she’d make a killing. She’d already visited the owners of Haslingfield House. To them, she’d been a representative of a small consortium interested in buying it and converting it into a hotel catering for visitors to the various laboratories, “and possibly conference trade as well. But the price has to be right, and we have to be able to get change of use.” The owners were definitely interested though. Tower House belonged to a wealthy gynaecologist, inherited from his grandmother. To him (her hair up, plain glasses and decidedly frumpy clothing), she was looking for a property to start a small boarding school for very young children, whose parents were often abroad.
“Three to seven year olds – we want somewhere with land so that they can be outdoors as much as possible. Have you read about the Forest School movement?” The other house was going to be an old people’s home.
“With plenty of garden space. Our vision is to enable the elderly to be able to keep up their hobbies, leisure pursuits. Studies have shown that this can reduce the likelihood of developing Alzheimer’s and other related illnesses by as much as 40%” She’d checked out the small properties belonging to Haslingfield House – no-one was living there, and they could easily be knocked down. Just two more to look at – and this one was deserted, and had been for some time. Luke was out all day with his parents – she’d got time to look at the other one too. Lucilla approached the second house through the trees – and then froze. Someone was there! A woman and a child. And as she watched, it became more and more obvious that they lived there. This was going to ruin all her plans. They depended on all the houses being empty. What could she do? Offer to buy her out? But what story could she tell here? No-one would want to buy that shack. She’d have to think of another way of getting that woman out of there. “Luke, this has been a lovely day out. And I know you’ve only got a long weekend this time. It was good of Lucilla to spare you to us.”
“Lucilla really wanted me to see you both. She’s so thoughtful. And she really likes you both. Could she call on you some time?” “She’d be really welcome. You know that. Any friend of yours is welcome at our house.”
“Thanks, Mum.” It was a Monday, some three weeks after Luke’s visit. Alice had just finished baking a couple of pies, to do them for the week, when Anita turned up. Normally, she came on a Wednesday, and the first thing she did was to apologise.
“Alice, I’m sorry – but you and Jacob were the only people I could think of to turn to for help. I’m in such trouble.”
“My dear, what is it? What’s the matter?” “I’ve just had a letter. From the Social Services. Saying that someone’s raised concerns about Amy’s welfare, and they’re coming out to inspect the place. They’re coming a week today. They’ll take Amy off me – or make us move out into some dreadful hostel somewhere – I know they will. That house will never pass muster. Alice, what am I going to do?”