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tell me you used to live here,’ Lily said, her voice tight.

      ‘Yes.’ Gwen turned to Lily. ‘For a while. A long time ago.’

      ‘How long?’ Lily said, her gaze unnervingly intense. ‘You went to school here?’

      ‘We moved onto Newfield Road when I was ten. But I haven’t been back for ages. Not since sixth form, actually.’ She forced a laugh. ‘It feels like a different life.’

      ‘You let me go on like a fool, showing you around. Telling you things.’ Bright spots of colour appeared on Lily’s cheeks. ‘You didn’t say you knew Pendleford, that you used to live here.’ Lily was almost stuttering in her horror. ‘I feel like an idiot. You let me go on—’

      ‘No, I liked it,’ Gwen said, trying to make it better. ‘It’s all so different. It was useful. Really.’

      Amanda laughed. ‘Pendleford? Changed? Not likely.’

      Gwen shot her a look that said: not helping.

      ‘Well, I assume you can find your way from here,’ Lily said, furious embarrassment clear on her face. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’

      Gwen watched her walk away, her back perfectly straight, her highlighted helmet of blonde hair hardly moving. ‘Damn it,’ she said under her breath. Way to make nice with the neighbours, Gwen.

      ‘Are you renovating the house?’ Amanda asked, oblivious. ‘I know a great builder if you need one.’ She looked self-conscious for a moment. ‘I suppose I would say that. He’s my husband, you see, but he’s very good.’

      ‘I’m sure.’

      ‘Ask anyone.’

      ‘I’m not really planning—’

      ‘He can get references. Written ones.’

      ‘I’ve only just moved in and I haven’t worked out what I’m doing yet—’

      ‘Reputation is everything round here, so you can rely on a local.’

      Gwen gave up. ‘I’ll bear him in mind. Thanks.’

      ‘Well, I’d best get on.’ Amanda stooped to retrieve her bags.

      ‘Right. Will do. I’m just—’ Gwen waved in the general direction she was heading. ‘I think I’ll get some lunch and wait for the post office to open.’

      ‘He won’t be back till one.’

      ‘Right. Thanks.’

      ‘You want some advice?’ Amanda leaned in. ‘Avoid the Red Lion.’

      ‘Bad food?’

      Amanda sniffed. ‘Bloody unfriendly.’

      Gwen watched the bulky figure of Amanda retreat up the twisty street and then turned resolutely in the direction of the pub. Unfriendly sounded perfect. She could cope with the ghosts if nobody living spoke to her for the next half an hour.

      Gwen finished a ploughman’s lunch and half a lager and read the newspaper. She was feeling a great deal warmer towards the town. The pub was the kind she liked. It had traditional decor with a few old photographs and horse brasses on the walls, scarred wooden tables and benches and an open fire in the front room.

      She’d even enjoyed the surly service from the barman; it made her feel more comfortable than anything else in Pendleford so far. It felt somehow more honest, which was probably a sad reflection on her life so far.

      Gwen left her plate and glass on the bar on her way past. The barman rewarded her with an almost-smile. The front room had filled up in the time she’d been eating, but Gwen noticed Cam right away. He was eating alone, a paperback book splayed open next to his plate.

      Gwen hesitated. She wanted to walk straight past, but if he looked up she didn’t want to get caught ignoring him. So he hated her. So what? She swallowed, feeling sick. If she was serious about staying in this town, she was going to have to get used to seeing him. She straightened her shoulders and tried to arrange her face into a relaxed expression.

      He looked up.

      Gwen forced herself forward. Breezy. Just breeze past. Breezily.

      ‘Hello.’

      ‘I just had lunch.’ Gwen motioned to the back room.

      Cam nodded, his expression unreadable.

      ‘I’m just going,’ Gwen said.

      ‘So I see.’ Cam looked like a spectacularly bad day had just got worse. Well, she’d just walk on out of there and relieve his stress.

      ‘Where are you running off to?’ Cam said, his face perfectly still.

      ‘I’m not running,’ Gwen said with dignity. ‘I’m leaving you in peace.’ This cold politeness was unnerving. She hadn’t expected much after their last meeting, but there wasn’t so much as a flicker of warmth. Gwen blinked. Her insides suddenly felt hollow.

      ‘Nice to see you,’ he said. Then, as if they were perfect strangers, ‘Welcome to Pendleford, again. Do call my office if you need anything.’

      Gwen got the hell out before she pushed his cool, calm, collected face into his lunch.

      On the way home, she called into the big chemist to stock up on essentials. She was filling her basket with three-for-two offers and trying to block out the Christmas music, when she spotted a familiar face. Marilyn Dixon. Lurking behind the perfume counter. There were dark circles under her eyes; purple shadows visible through the mask of pale beige make-up. Gwen felt a stab of guilt. She shouldn’t have left things the way she did. She should’ve been nicer. More sympathetic.

      Gwen waited for the queue to empty, then took her basket up to Marilyn’s till.

      For a moment she thought Marilyn wouldn’t recognise her, but then she said, ‘Iris used to make all her own stuff. Body lotion and toothpaste. She said you couldn’t trust the chemicals.’

      ‘Won’t you get in trouble for saying that here?’ Gwen was aiming for humour, but Marilyn didn’t smile. ‘Watch out for the botanical range. It brought me out in a rash.’

      ‘Right. Thank you.’

      There was a pause, punctuated by the beep of the scanner.

      ‘I’m sorry if I was rude last night,’ Gwen said.

      ‘That’s all right,’ Marilyn said stiffly. ‘It must’ve seemed very odd, my coming to you like that.’

      ‘Well—’

      ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know what I’m doing any more.’ Marilyn rammed a tube of hand cream deep into a carrier bag. ‘It’s not been an easy time for me.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’

      Marilyn added the cotton buds, lip balm and moisturiser to the bag.

      ‘If you want to talk—’ Gwen began awkwardly.

      ‘I have friends,’ Marilyn said defensively. A furtive look crossed her face. ‘And I went to see your neighbour instead. She was very helpful.’

      ‘Oh. Good,’ Gwen said. ‘My neighbour?’

      ‘She said it’ll make Brian come to his senses.’

      ‘What will?’

      Marilyn bagged the last item – a lipstick Gwen had picked up on impulse – and gave Gwen a sickly smile. ‘Thank you for shopping with us today.’

      Gwen braved the cold to spend some time sorting through her stock in the back of Nanette. She knew she ought to be making plans; working out what she was going to do about her business, money, her future. Instead, Cam’s carefully polite expression and Marilyn-bloody-Dixon’s voice kept popping into her mind. What

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