I was at a loss what to say because I couldn’t tell which she thought was worse-to be a Wright or not to be a Derbyshire. “You don’t have to believe it. If it’s the word of a confused woman against what your grandmother said twelve years ago, then I’d put my faith in your grandmother. Why would she lie? Wasn’t that the one time to tell you you weren’t alone-that you still had family?”

“I think Lily asked her not to. She said a couple of times, ‘Don’t tell the girl, I’ll do it, she’s too depressed at the moment.’ ”

“But Lily never did…or not while she was still thinking straight.”

“No.”

“Then either there was nothing to tell,” I pointed out, “or she never intended to do it.”

“I think she changed her mind after Gran died. That’s when I did this.” Self-consciously, she turned her left wrist towards me. “I came up here to tell her Gran was dead and she kept saying the wrong things…like, it was a good way to go…Gran had had a good innings…it wasn’t the end of the world. And I started shouting at her, which brought on a panic attack.” She shook her head. “I was so mad with Lily…I was so mad with my family…and I thought…what’s the point? It is the end of the fucking world.”

“Were you serious?”

“About killing myself? Not really. I remember thinking how much pain I was in because everyone had died…and hoping that other people would suffer a bit…but the act itself”-she shrugged-“it was more of a scream than anything.”

“Have you ever tried again?”

“No. Once bitten, twice shy. I hated the fuss more than anything.”

I identified with that sentiment more than she knew. “What was Lily’s reaction?”

“Called Peter to try and keep the whole thing under wraps. She wanted him to stitch the wounds himself, but he wouldn’t do it-said he’d lose his licence if he didn’t have me properly assessed-so I ended up in hospital with psychiatrists and bereavement counsellors.” She rubbed her eyes again. “It was awful. The only person who remained halfway sensible was Lily. She got me discharged by promising that she’d take responsibility for me, then never spoke about it again.”

“Did you stay with her?”

“No.”

“Then how could she take responsibility for you?”

“She didn’t try, just asked for my word that I wouldn’t do anything stupid if she left me alone at the farm, then gave me a mastiff puppy.” Her eyes sparkled at the memory. “Much better medicine than anything the doctors had to offer.”

“But why should any of that make her change her mind, Jess? It seems so odd. The natural thing would have been to open her arms and say, you’re not alone, I’m your aunt.”

“Except she wasn’t a demonstrative woman, and then the whole thing with Nathaniel happened.” She shrugged. “I suppose she felt there was never a good time to do it.”

Personally, I doubted that Lily had ever planned to acknowledge Jess as a relative, although she certainly seemed to have had a soft spot for her. Perhaps she discovered she had more in common with her niece than her daughter, preferring Jess’s quiet, introverted nature to Madeleine’s more extroverted one. Rightly or wrongly, I’d formed an impression of Lily as a self-contained woman with limited friendships, whose only real loves were her garden and her dogs, and in that she was no different from Jess. She may well have been able to put on a “show” for visitors, but I wondered if it was just that-a show-and in her head she was mentally counting the seconds to their departure.

“So what was the ammunition you gave Nathaniel if it wasn’t to do with your family?” I asked curiously.

“I told him Lily had given enduring power of attorney to her solicitor.”

“I thought you said it was ammunition against Madeleine. Wouldn’t that have helped her…given her a chance to come down here and persuade Lily to overturn it?”

Jess pulled her mouth into a wry twist. “I half-hoped she would, as a matter of fact. Money was about the only thing that might have persuaded her to pull out her finger for the first time in her life…but I didn’t think Nathaniel would tell her. I was only trying to give him a head start before the shit hit the fan. Madeleine kept up a pretence of harmony as long as she thought this place was within her grasp…but she’s probably throwing saucepans at him by now.”

“I don’t understand. A head start on what?”

“Divorce…ownership of their flat…custody of the kid. If he’d moved quickly enough, he might have been able to persuade Madeleine to sign everything over-including her son-before she found out she’d been bypassed. She’d already agreed in principle as long as Nathaniel made no claims on Barton House or Lily’s money.” She smiled at my expression of disgust for the child. “She uses Hugo as a bargaining chip because she knows Nathaniel won’t leave without him. I wasn’t joking about the saucepans, you know.”

“But-” I couldn’t get my head round it. “Are you saying he wants a divorce and she doesn’t?”

“Not exactly. She’ll divorce him like a shot when she gets her hands on this place, but not before. Otherwise they’ll have to sell the flat and split the proceeds, and she won’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’ll end up in somewhere like Neasden with her half. At the moment they’re in Pimlico. She’d rather live with people she hates than move down the social ladder. It’s not as if she’s got Lily’s allowance anymore. At least Nathaniel’s salary-” Jess came to an abrupt halt as five throaty barks split the silence outside. “OK,” she said calmly, seizing the axe in both hands. “We have a visitor. What do you want to do? Find out who it is, or sit tight and phone the police?”

I stared at her in horror. Was there a choice?

“It’s up to you,” she said, her eyes glittering dangerously as the dogs kept up their continuous barking. “Do you want to beat the shit out of the fucker…or let him go on thinking women are easy meat?”

I wanted to say we could do both-call the police and beat the shit out of the fucker. I wanted to say it might not be MacKenzie. I wanted to say I was completely terrified. But she was halfway across the room while I was still weighing options, and I could hardly leave her to face whoever was out there alone. So I picked up the walking-stick and went along with her. What else could I have done?

IT’S EASY to be wise after the event, but that’s to ignore the froth of adrenaline that spurs you on at the time. I had so much confidence in Jess and her mastiffs that I didn’t think we were behaving in a particularly reckless fashion. Despite everything she’d told me-about her panic attacks and the wrist-slitting episode-and my experience of her obvious alarm on the day I phoned her from the kitchen, I never thought of her as someone who was easily frightened. That was my role. It was Connie Burns who cowered in corners, not Jess Derbyshire.

The idiocy was, there was nothing to be afraid of. It was Peter surrounded by mastiffs, not MacKenzie, and predictably Jess gave him hell for scaring us. She called off the dogs and lambasted him for not phoning first to say he was coming. “I could have brought this down on your head,” she said furiously, brandishing the axe in front of him.

He looked equally furious in the light spilling out from the open back door and the kitchen window. “I would have done if I’d realized you were planning to set those blasted animals on me,” he said. “What’s got into them? They’ve never barked at me before. It’s bloody terrifying.”

“It’s supposed to be,” she retorted scathingly, “and you’ve never come sneaking up on them before. What do you want, anyway? It’s nearly eleven o’clock.”

He took several breaths to calm himself. “I was on my way home from a medical do in Weymouth, had no luck at the farm, saw Connie’s lights were still on and thought you were probably here.”