‘What did you do that for?’ demanded one man of Evie, brandishing a flaming torch. ‘What happens to us now?’
‘We live our lives,’ said Evie, defiant and unafraid.
‘But what will Saxonhurst be? You’ll keep the traditions going, won’t you?’
‘I haven’t decided yet. Leave us alone. I’m taking Adam here home.’
They bunched together, menacingly tight, but Evie shouted at them to get back.
‘You can’t do nothing to me,’ she shouted. ‘I’m your goose that lays the golden eggs. If you hurt me, the village can’t prosper.’
They loosened their formation, muttering.
‘What about him?’ One of them jabbed a thumb in Adam’s direction. ‘We don’t owe him anything.’
‘Let him alone. He’s in shock. Here.’ She helped him to his feet and began to stagger away from the green. ‘Best not go back to the vicarage tonight,’ she muttered as they limped onwards. ‘Wouldn’t put it past that lot to torch it.’
‘Christ,’ said Adam, still far from recovered. His thoughts flew about, untrammelled by reason, refusing to settle.
‘We’ll go to the manor. Seb and Kasia’ll look after us.’
Kasia answered the door, pale as milk.
‘Come in,’ she said, hugging Evie to her. ‘Jesus. What was that?’
In the living room, Sebastian poured them all substantial brandies.
‘I knew this village had its quirks,’ he said. ‘All the sexy stuff – we loved that. We felt we fitted right in. But what happened out there …’
He shook his head.
‘They would really have burned both of you alive?’ asked Kasia.
‘Yeah,’ said Evie, sipping her drink. ‘For God’s sake, Adam, get it down your neck. It’s not poison.’
Adam gave in and let the fiery liquid burn a trail down his throat.
‘I don’t like it,’ said Seb. ‘It’s … I’m calling the estate agent tomorrow. You agree, Kas?’
‘Yes. I can’t stay in this place. They are murderers.’
‘Well, to be fair, nobody got murdered in the end,’ Evie pointed out.
‘All the same … I’ll go and make up a couple of guest rooms.’
Kasia drifted out and Seb left the room to take a call on his mobile phone.
Adam turned to Evie, alone with her at last.
‘You saved me,’ he said, grimacing as another mouthful of brandy set light to his chest.
‘Don’t mention it,’ she said dryly, then she gave him a guilty look. ‘I got you into it in the first place. You shouldn’t be thanking me. You should hate me for the way I’ve treated you.’
‘I couldn’t hate you.’
‘I used you.’
‘That man – Calderwood. He used you. He had a hold over you, didn’t he?’