Olivia put down her empty coffee cup and went over to the sofa where Nigel was reading the Saturday papers.

‘We need to talk.’

Nigel lowered the paper. ‘Can’t it wait?’

‘No.’ Olivia sat down next to him. ‘I’m not stupid, Nigel.’

‘Have I ever said you are?’ He folded the paper up and chucked it on the coffee table.

‘What’s going on?’

‘I’m not with you.’ But he looked shifty.

‘The badminton.’

‘I told you, it’s the MD’s idea.’

‘You did. But that doesn’t explain why you aren’t playing.’

‘What the hell are you on about, Ol? I do. Every Tuesday.’

‘You do something every Tuesday but it isn’t playing badminton. Who is it, Nigel? Who are you seeing?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

Olivia got up and went to the cupboard in the corner of the kitchen. She got out the sports bag she’d repacked after Heather’s visit, put it on the table and tipped out the contents.

‘So? My sports kit.’

Olivia held up the single shoe. ‘The pair to this is in the airing cupboard – where I hid it.’ She stared down at him. ‘That match you told me you won... how, with only one shoe?’ Nigel went brick red as Olivia chucked the shoe into Nigel’s lap. ‘So... I’d like the truth.’

Nigel looked at the shoe then up at Olivia. ‘I can explain.’

‘Go on – and this had better be good.’

‘I haven’t been exactly straight with you, Ol.’

Olivia sighed and crossed her arms. No shit, Sherlock, as Zac would have said. But she felt frightened – scared of what his revelation was going to be.

‘You think I’m having an affair.’

‘Aren’t you?’

Nigel gave a mirthless snort of laughter. ‘Shit, Oli, if only it were that simple.’

‘Then what? Is it work?’ She sat down again on the sofa. Nigel was finding this conversation hard enough without her making things worse by towering over him like some sort of interrogator.

Nigel shook his head. ‘No.’ He sighed heavily. ‘No, work’s fine.’

Olivia waited.

‘I’m going to Gamblers Anonymous. They meet on a Tuesday evening, in Cattebury.’

‘Don’t be stupid, Nigel, of course you’re not. Why would you do that? You don’t gamble.’

‘I do. I have done for years.’

‘But... but I’d know if you did.’

‘How?’

Olivia couldn’t answer that.

‘It’s not like drinking, Ol. I don’t come home drunk or reeking of betting shops.’

‘No, but...’

‘And I’m going to GA because we’re broke.’

‘Broke? We can’t be.’

‘Olivia, we are.’

‘But... but... how?’

‘I’ve blown it. It’s all gone. Every last penny.’

Olivia shook her head. ‘OK, Nigel, you’ve had your fun, now tell me what’s really going on.’

Nigel’s hand slamming on to the table made Olivia jump. ‘For fuck’s sake, Olivia, I am not joking.’

Olivia felt sick. No! Not them, not broke. It was just not possible. ‘But, I don’t understand. You couldn’t have lost it all just by gambling. I mean... how?’

‘Because it got out of hand. I’ve been putting money on the gee-gees, dogs, fruit machines, footie, cricket, the stock market... you name it, I took a punt on it.’

‘But... why?’ Olivia still wasn’t sure she believed him. Surely he was exaggerating.

‘Because I enjoyed it. Because there was no feeling like it when I won.’

‘But if you won, how come we’re broke?’

‘I lost more than I won. Way more.’ Nigel didn’t look her in the eye as he said that.

‘How much have you lost?’ Olivia whispered, not sure she wanted to know.

‘I can’t give you an exact figure.’

‘Hell’s teeth, Nigel, how much?’ Olivia took a deep breath. ‘Ballpark figure.’

‘Half a million – give or take.’

If Olivia hadn’t been sitting down she’d have fallen down. ‘Half a million,’ she gasped.

Nigel nodded.

‘But why... how?’

‘I just couldn’t stop myself.’

‘You couldn’t stop yourself?!’ Olivia’s initial shock was giving way to anger. ‘You couldn’t stop yourself?’ she shouted. ‘Didn’t you think of your family – of me? The children?’

Nigel nodded miserably. ‘But I kept thinking that one really big win would put it all right.’

‘And that obviously worked as a plan,’ she sneered.

‘I’m sorry, Oli.’

‘Don’t! Don’t call me Oli. I loathe it.’

Nigel looked shocked. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.

‘For what? Not using my proper name or ruining everything?’

‘Oli... Olivia, please...’

Olivia stood up and paced over to the window. She couldn’t bear to look at Nigel any more and she had to put some distance between them or she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to retain control. Without turning round she said, ‘So how bad is it?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘I mean,’ she turned and faced him, ‘where do we stand? I’m assuming our savings have gone.’ Nigel nodded in confirmation. ‘Investments?’ Another nod. ‘What about the house?’

Nigel stared at her.

‘The house is safe?’

He shook his head. ‘We’re going to have to sell. It’s the only way I can pay off the debts.’

Olivia took in the bleak news. ‘Sell? But can’t we remortgage, or something?’

Nigel shook his head. ‘Not with my credit record. That’s why I went to look at those new houses. Living somewhere like that – somewhere much, much cheaper than here – is our only option. And we can’t afford to get caught up in a chain; we’ve got to sell and sell fast. My creditors... my creditors are getting nasty. If I don’t pay them soon it’ll be the bailiffs or bankruptcy.’

Bankruptcy? They were threatened by bankruptcy. Them? Olivia felt sick at the prospect. She got up and walked out of the front door, slamming it hard behind her.

*

Brian got off his knees and looked about him. It was, as he was already very well aware, a beautiful church. The people who’d built it had had much more to contend with – plague, pestilence, famine and Lord alone knew what else – and they’d trusted in God and got on with it, created this wonderful place of worship when they could expect either themselves or their families to get struck down at any time. Some had laboured with no prospect of seeing it completed, some had probably died working on it, but they’d done it for the community, for future generations. Compared to his predecessors in this ancient town he had it easy. OK, so his life wasn’t exactly cushy, but it wasn’t bad. He was healthy, he had a wonderful wife, he had a roof over his head, he had enough food on the table, he had heat and light at the flick of a switch... He needed to get a grip and count his blessings.

Brian squared his shoulders. He could do this. He would do this. He was going to muddle through somehow because he had a duty to every one of his congregation.

Duty.

That was the key. It was his duty. He’d had a calling, he’d answered it, and now he had to see it through. End of. And, as he thought that, as he accepted his lot, he could almost feel the weight lifting.

*

Megan drifted downstairs and found the kitchen empty apart from the breakfast detritus left by two small boys. She picked up the empty cereal plates, mugs and used cutlery and put them in the dishwasher, then mopped down the table. Order restored after a fashion, she opened the fridge and contemplated what she could have. Orange juice for a start, she thought as she took out the carton. She’d poured herself a glass and was about to put the carton back in the fridge when the back door opened and in came Bex with an empty laundry basket.

‘It’s such a lovely morning I thought I’d get the washing out early because the forecast says it won’t last. Sleep well?’

Megan nodded. ‘You should have woken me up; it’s late.’

‘It’s only nine. Besides, I think, after yesterday, a good night’s sleep was exactly what the doctor ordered. And you feel all right – not sick or anything?’

‘No, I’m fine. Why?’

‘Alfie was sick yesterday evening.’

‘Poor kid.’

‘He’s as right as rain now, though. I just thought you ought to know – in case you feel a bit off colour.’

‘Is Lewis OK too?’

‘Fine.’

‘Maybe it was something he ate.’

‘Got to hope. The last thing I want is for us all to go down with some sort of sick bug.’

Megan shuddered.

‘And what are your plans for today?’ said Bex, putting the laundry basket on the table.

‘I thought I’d get the bus to Cattebury.’

‘On your own?’

Megan shrugged. ‘It’s only the next town. I won’t talk to strange men or anything. There’s a couple of things I’d like to do.’

‘Such as?’

‘This and that – a bit of shopping.’ The last thing Megan wanted to do was to go into detail, tell Bex she was getting money to lend to Zac.

‘Oh, yes?’

‘There’s a top in Next that I saw online.’ She hoped to God there was a Next in Cattebury. She’d checked out there was a branch of the building society but nothing else.

‘Will you be home for lunch?’

Megan nodded.

‘Right,’ said Bex. ‘This isn’t getting the rest of the laundry done – having to do a full set of bedding on top of everything else is going to stretch the resources a bit today. Let’s hope I can get it washed and dried before the rain sets in.’ She went back upstairs leaving Megan fingering her bank book in her jean’s pocket.

Why, she wondered, was she doing this? She wasn’t sure she even liked Zac, but she felt sorry for him. He was in a bad place and she knew what that was like. She knew how much it meant to feel you had a friend – moreover, she knew how awful it felt if you didn’t.

Taking her orange juice with her she returned to her room and picked her phone off her bedside table.

going 2 town 2 get the money she texted Zac. where shall i meet u when i get back

She was cleaning her teeth when her phone jangled.

I’ll get the bus with u

Did he want to make sure she actually got the money? OK

meet me at the stop by the primary school 10.30

OK. She glanced at the time on her phone – plenty of time. Now... what to wear? Bex said it was going to rain later so maybe jeans? And did she put on make-up? She wasn’t sure if she wanted Zac to be attracted to her or not. His arrogance was unsettling. On the other hand he was very good-looking. She began to rummage through her wardrobe.