As you know, I act on behalf of Mrs. Lily Wright and I have taken the view that it is not in my client’s interests to pursue charges relating to alleged events between November 2003 and January 2004. Because of her frail health, Mrs. Wright would be unable to testify, and I believe this would result in a failed prosecution. Your case is different since you have a film of Madeleine Harrison-Wright’s apparent assault on you, and an independent witness in Ms. Derbyshire.

I cannot, of course, advise you on what action to take as you are not my client, however I hope you will forgive my presumption in pointing out some likely consequences of proceeding. Madeleine Harrison-Wright will argue that nothing she said can be relied on as there is clear evidence of provocation and coercion. Your own credibility will be questioned because you failed to report your suspicions to the police. The same is true of your witness. In addition, the very existence of the film may result in you and Ms. Derbyshire being charged with conspiracy to blackmail.

As my primary concern is Mrs. Lily Wright’s welfare, I have introduced various measures to ensure her continued welfare and safety. Please feel confident that she is being looked after with kindness, and is as happy as her condition allows. Before her health failed, she gave me certain instructions regarding herself, her family and her estate. Despite, or perhaps because of, the information you and Ms. Derbyshire obtained from Mrs. Madeleine Harrison-Wright, I see no reason to move away from those instructions.

1. For the foreseeable future, Barton House will remain in Mrs. Lily Wright’s estate.

2. Mrs. Wright’s nursing-home care will continue to be covered by income from its rental and income from her investments.

3. Should the sale of Barton House become necessary, the money will be placed in trust for the benefit of Mrs. Wright during her lifetime.

4. Upon her death, the benefit will pass to her grandson, Hugo Harrison-Wright, with all disbursement of money at the discretion of trustees.

5. In the event that Barton House remains unsold at the time of Mrs. Lily Wright’s death, it will pass to her niece to keep or dispose of as she pleases.

Ms. Derbyshire tells me you fully understand the implications of these decisions, but should you require further clarification please feel free to contact me. As per Mrs. Lily Wright’s instructions, Nathaniel and Madeleine Harrison-Wright remain in ignorance of her wishes.

While I accept that you have a genuine grievance against Madeleine Harrison-Wright, I worry that an attempted prosecution will exonerate her and allow her access to confidential information. For this reason, may I urge you to consider all of the above and let me know if you intend to proceed? You will, of course, be aware that any such action will lead to disclosures about Ms. Derbyshire’s connection with the family.

Finally, on behalf of Mrs. Lily Wright, I would like to thank you and Ms. Derbyshire for bringing these matters to my attention. I am distressed that my client was unable to inform me of what was happening to her at the time, but I am advised that her long-term condition would not have been unduly affected by her daughter’s mistreatment. Sadly, the progress of the disease was always irreversible.

Yours sincerely,

Thomas Balldock

SEVERAL RUMORS SURFACED at the same time, although it wasn’t clear where they started. Everyone knew about the injunction preventing Madeleine from visiting Lily, and it was generally assumed that she’d made an attempt on her mother’s life in the nursing-home. From that developed the Chinese whispers. I was told variously that Madeleine had been diagnosed with a personality disorder; that she was under compulsory psychiatric care; that she’d been forced to leave the London flat after assaulting her son; that Nathaniel had filed for divorce; and that a restraining order had been imposed to stop her coming within a mile of Winterbourne Barton.

The only whisper I knew to be true (apart from the nursing-home injunction) was the restraining order which Thomas Balldock had applied for on behalf of Jess and myself. I don’t know what evidence he presented, but we were told to notify the police if Madeleine or Nathaniel tried to contact us or enter our properties. However, it wasn’t until Peter bumped into an acquaintance of Nathaniel’s in London that the separation was confirmed. According to the acquaintance, it was Nathaniel and Hugo who’d moved out of the flat, and Madeleine who remained in possession. Father and son were living in Wales with Nathaniel’s parents, and Madeleine was struggling to pay the bills.

The residents of Winterbourne Barton were surprisingly honest in their reactions. Most claimed to be shocked by the rumours, but a few said they’d always found Madeleine’s charm superficial. I was the recipient of several indirect apologies to Jess for some of the things that had been said and thought about her, but no one was brave enough to make them in person. If they tried, they were met with a ferocious scowl.

I stayed out of it, but I know my mother urged her to be generous since people were “only trying to be nice.” Jess replied that it was she who was being nice, by letting them “gawp” at her, because the only thing that had changed was their perception of Madeleine. Jess was the same as she’d always been and Winterbourne Barton remained a retirement village for rich, ignorant pensioners who knew nothing about the countryside. Under my mother’s emollient balm, she was persuaded to produce the odd smile in place of a scowl, but small talk remained beyond her.

I suggested to Mum that as soon as she and Dad went back to London Jess’s brief renaissance would be over. “I don’t want to schmooze the locals any more than she does,” I pointed out, “and my tenancy ends in December.”

“Jess has a kind heart,” she said. “If she hears of someone in trouble, she’ll help them. She helped you, didn’t she?”

“But I didn’t impose on the friendship.”

My mother laughed. “And neither will anyone else. People aren’t stupid, Connie. As long as she keeps making social calls, everything will work out fine. It’s hard to dislike someone with as much warmth as Jess has.”

Warmth…? Were we talking about the same person? Jess Derbyshire? Dysfunction on legs? “Jess doesn’t make social calls.”

“Of course she does, darling. How many times has she dropped in on you since you arrived here?”

“That’s different.”

“I don’t think so. When Peter tells her one of his patients needs some eggs, she’ll be round like a shot. It’s her nature to look after others. She’ll make an excellent doctor’s wife.”

It was my turn to laugh. “Do you think that’s likely? I don’t think she’s the marrying type.”

“Perhaps not, but she could do with a baby or two,” said my mother matter-of-factly. “Otherwise her farm will go to strangers when she dies.”

I eyed her with amusement. “Have you told her that? How did she respond?”

“Rather more positively than you’ve ever done.”

I didn’t believe her for a moment. Jess’s most likely retort was that giving birth to me hadn’t stopped strangers taking my parents’ farm in Zimbabwe-it was the answer she’d given when I’d strayed on to the subject of inheritance-but I decided not to argue the point. My mother was too well practised at turning other people’s babies into a lecture on my lack of commitment in the same department. In any case, I rather liked the idea of Jess producing little Derbyshire-Colemans. I thought they’d grow up to be as affectionate, competent and well balanced as her mastiffs.

I SPENT a couple of days in Manchester at the end of September, giving Alan Collins a full statement of the events in Baghdad. By then he’d built up quite a file against MacKenzie, which was available to other national and international police forces in the event of an arrest. I asked him if he was optimistic, and he shook his head.