Gina went along with the idea of the gas leak with an ease that Meredith found herself admiring greatly, putting aside her worries about Gordon Jossie in a way that Meredith herself could never have managed in the same situation. Indeed, she soon had engaged Janet Powell in a conversation on the topic of Janet herself, her long marriage to Meredith’s father, motherhood, and grand-motherhood. Meredith could tell her mother was charmed.

Nothing disturbed the evening and by the time darkness fell, Meredith’s guard had melted away. They were safe, for now. Tomorrow would be time enough to consider what to do next.

She began to see that she had been wrong about Gina Dickens. Gina was just as much a victim in this as Jemima had been. Each of them had made the same mistake: For some reason that Meredith herself would never be able to understand, each of the women had fallen for Gordon Jossie, and Gordon Jossie had deceived them both.

She couldn’t comprehend how two intelligent women had failed to see Gordon for what he so obviously was, but then she had to admit that her distrust of men wasn’t something that other women would naturally share. Besides, people generally learned from their own encounters with the opposite sex. People didn’t usually learn from hearing tales about others’ relationships gone sour.

This had been the case for Jemima, and it was undoubtedly the case for Gina. She was learning now, that was true, although it still seemed that she didn’t want to believe.

“I still can’t think he hurt her,” Gina said in a low voice when they were alone in Meredith’s bedroom. And then she added before Meredith could make an acidulous comment about Gordon Jossie, “Anyway, thank you. You’re a real friend, Meredith. And your mum’s lovely. So is Cammie. And your dad. You’re very lucky.”

Meredith considered this. She said, “For a long time, it didn’t feel that way.” She told Gina then about Cammie’s father. She recited the whole wretched tale. She finished by saying, “When I wouldn’t have an abortion, that was that. He said I’d have to prove in court that he was the dad, but at that point I actually didn’t care to.”

“He doesn’t help you at all? He doesn’t support her?”

“If he sent me a cheque, I’d set fire to it. Way I see it, he’s the one losing out. I have Cammie, and he’ll never know her.”

“What does she think about her dad?”

“She knows that some kids have dads and others don’t. We reckoned-Mum and Dad and me-if we didn’t make it a tragedy, she wouldn’t see it that way.”

“But she must ask.”

“Sometimes. But at the end of the day, she’s more interested in seeing the otters at the wildlife park, so we don’t have to have much of a conversation about it. In time, I’ll tell her some version of the story, but she’ll be older then.” Meredith shrugged, and Gina squeezed her hand. They were sitting on the edge of the bed, in the dim light of a single bedside lamp. The house was silent aside from their whispers.

Gina said, “I expect you know you did the right thing, but it’s not been easy for you, has it?”

Meredith shook her head. She found herself grateful for the understanding, for she knew that it looked to others as if it had been easy and she never spoke about it in any other way. She lived with her parents, after all, and they loved Cammie. Meredith’s mum looked after the little girl while Meredith went off to work. What could be simpler? Many things, of course, as it turned out, and topping the list was being single, being free, and being in pursuit of the career she’d set off to London to have in the first place. That was gone now, but not forgotten.

Meredith blinked quickly as she realised how long it had been since she’d had a close friend of her own age. She said, “Ta,” to Gina and then she considered what real friendship actually meant: confidences shared, no secrets kept. Yet she had one that she needed to part with.

She said, “Gina,” and she took a deep breath, “I’ve got something of yours.”

Gina looked puzzled. “Mine? What?”

Meredith fetched her bag from the top of the chest of drawers. She dumped its contents next to Gina, and she pawed through them till she had what she was looking for: the tiny packet she’d found beneath the basin in Gina’s lodging. She held it in the palm of her hand and she extended it to Gina.

“I broke into your bed-sit.” She could feel her face flush to pure red. “I was looking for something that would tell me…” Meredith thought about it. What had she been looking for? She hadn’t known then and she didn’t know now. She said, “I don’t know what I was looking for, but this is what I found, and I took it. I’m sorry. It was a terrible thing to do.”

Gina looked at the little packet of folded paper, but she didn’t take it. Her shapely eyebrows drew together. “What is it?”

Meredith hadn’t for a moment considered that what she’d found might not actually belong to Gina. She’d discovered it in Gina’s room; ergo, it was hers. She withdrew her hand and removed the wrapping from round the roughly shaped circle of gold. Again, she extended her hand to Gina and this time Gina picked the small piece of gold from Meredith’s palm and held it in her own.

She said, “D’you think it’s real, Meredith?”

“Real what?”

“Real gold.” Gina peered at it closely. She said, “It’s quite old, isn’t it. Look how it’s worn down. I c’n make out a head. And there’re some letters as well.” She looked up. “I think it’s a coin. Or p’rhaps a medal, an award of some kind. Have you a magnifying glass?”

Meredith thought about this. Her mother used a small one to thread the needle of her sewing machine. She went to fetch it and handed it over. Gina used it to try to make out what was depicted on the object she held. She said, “Some bloke’s head, all right. He’s wearing one of those circlet crowns.”

“Like a king would wear into battle, over his armour?”

Gina nodded. “There’re words as well, but I can’t make them out. Only they don’t look like English.”

Meredith thought. A coin or medal possibly fashioned from gold, a king, words in a foreign language. She thought also of where they lived, in the New Forest itself, a place long ago established as the hunting grounds for William the Conqueror. He didn’t speak English. None of the court spoke English then. French was their language.

“Is it French?” she asked.

Gina said, “Can’t tell. Have a look yourself. It’s not easy to read.”

It wasn’t. The letters were blurred, likely with time and usage, which suggested the way any coin would become less easy to read, having been carried round, handled, and passed from one person to another.

“I expect it’s valuable,” Gina said, “if only because it’s gold. Course, I’m only assuming it’s gold. I s’pose it could be something else.”

“What else?” Meredith said.

“I don’t know. Brass? Bronze?”

“Why hide a brass coin? Or a bronze one? I expect it’s gold, all right.” She raised her head. “Only question is, if it’s not yours-”

“Honestly? I’ve never seen it in my life.”

“-then how did it get into your room?”

Gina said, sounding delicate about it, “Truth to tell, Meredith, if you broke into the room so easily…”

Meredith finished the thought. “Someone else could have done the same. And left the coin beneath the basin as well.”

“Is that where you found it?” Gina was quiet, mulling this over. “Well, either whoever had the room before me hid the coin, left in a hurry, and forgot about it,” she finally said, “or someone put it there while I’ve had the room.”

“We need to know who that person was,” Meredith said.

“Yes. I think we do.”