Warning: Episode may contain strong language, violence and sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

PREVIOUSLY…

• Emma Blake, the new village doctor, moved to Glendale.
• After a chance encounter at The Store, Judith remembered Emma’s true identity.
• Tom sent secret messages from a hidden phone.
• Neha found comfort in alcohol.
• An absentminded Emma crashed into Ben, leading to a curt interaction.

Honeysuckle Cottage,
Glendale

Emma Blake’s eyes opened to a familiar ceiling, one plastered with antique tiles and an impressive ornate ceiling rose. She lay silently in bed, the sheets tangled around her legs and the early morning light casting a warm glow through the crack in the thin curtains. Emma’s mind wandered back to the night before and in particular, to Judith’s reaction. Emma knew instinctively that Judith had recognised her, and now it was only a matter of time until everything exploded. She shuddered at an unpleasant thought – what if David was right? Thoughts and worries exploded in Emma’s mind like popcorn kernels. What if she was wrong to come to Glendale? What if this was a sick mistake, just as David had declared? What if she was about to blow everyone’s lives apart for no reason?

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Ashbourne House,
Glendale

Julia Harrington-Jones lay in bed, the thin, soft Egyptian cotton sheet draped across her body, as her eyes fixed on the mote that danced through the air, caught on a golden sunbeam that shone in brightly through a slight crack in the drawn curtains. She had barely slept a wink. Ghosts of the past haunted her. Julia strained to listen to the morning birdsong that was being drowned out by the sound of running water and James’ inane humming coming from the en suite. Alone with her thoughts, Julia felt a growing sense of unease that made it almost hard to breathe.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Greystone Downs Farm,
Glendale

Tom Spencer pushed open the kitchen door, a cloud of dust trailing behind him as Buster, the exuberant black and white four-year-old border collie, bounded inside. The early summer air felt warm on his skin, and the morning sun cast a golden glow across the fields. He’d been up since dawn, milking the cows and checking the pastures. The cows were restless, and the humidity made everything feel sticky.

Inside the house, the kitchen, smelling of freshly brewed coffee and burnt toast, was a whirlwind of activity. The clinking of cereal bowls, the hum of the refrigerator, and the sporadic bursts of chatter from the children filled the room.

“Tom! Boots!” Kate shouted from the sink as she dumped two empty cereal bowls and jabbed a finger in her husband’s direction.

“Sorry,” Tom replied, quickly stepping back to remove his boots and leave them by the back door. “It’s a mess out there, with all this humidity.”

Kate nodded, not taking in Tom’s words. She glanced at the clock. She had seven minutes at best to get the kids in the car and get them to school, despite the fact it was exactly an eleven-minute and sixteen-second drive if she pushed the Land Rover to its absolute limits.

Tom took an antidepressant from its pill bottle in the top kitchen cupboard, grabbed a coffee mug from the counter, poured himself a cup, swallowed the pill with a gulp of caffeine goodness, readjusted himself, and turned to face the chaos, leaning against the kitchen bench. “All set, Ava?” He made a mental note to make a doctor’s appointment for a repeat prescription.

Ava, Tom and Kate’s eldest, remained silent and stared at the TikToks flashing on her phone.

“Ava!” Tom waved a hand. He clicked his fingers. He practically danced a jig. “AVA!”

“AirPods,” Kate sighed, referencing the bane of her existence.

Tom rolled his eyes.

Meanwhile, Harry and Noah, the two youngest, raced around the kitchen table, chasing each other with sticky hands covered in maple syrup.

“Stop that!” Kate snapped, trying unsuccessfully to catch Noah as he darted past. “We’re going to be late. Get your bags and get in the car!”

Tom chuckled as he sipped his coffee.

Kate shot him a deathly glare. “And you can shut your fat face an’ all,” she warned in her thick Welsh accent.

Kate pulled the AirPods from Ava’s ears and gave the sullen teen a hurry along. She grabbed “the terrible two” and bundled them out the door towards the car, then snatched her keys from the wooden key holder by the front door, kissed Tom goodbye, scratched Buster’s ears – for he was a very good boy – and disappeared from sight. The front door slammed, and the house fell silent. The morning chaos was over.

As Kate’s Land Rover drove off down the drive, Tom watched on for a moment before heading upstairs. He entered the master bedroom, removed the pair of old jeans from the wardrobe, extracted the almost ancient Samsung phone from the back pocket, and checked his messages.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Village Green,
Glendale

By the school gates, Ben Granger waved goodbye to Oliver and Poppy, watching his six-year-old twins disappear into the swarm of backpacks and lunchboxes. It had been a hectic morning – rushing to get them ready, a lost shoe, and a temper tantrum from Poppy over the wrong flavour of juice. As a crowd of parents and children swirled around him, Ben sighed, relieved that the hardest part of his day was over.

Ben left the school gates and headed down Queen Victoria Street towards his car. He removed his phone from the pocket of his scrubby work jeans and fired off a text to his soon-to-be ex-wife, Rebecca. Their court date yesterday had been a disaster, and threatened to draw the process out longer than it needed to be. Distracted, Ben didn’t see the person leaving The Store and bumped into them – hard. The impact jolted him backwards, and he performed several juggling acts as he scrambled to grasp hold of his phone before eventually catching it. “Watch it!” Ben snapped reflexively, irritation flaring.

Then he saw who he had bumped into. The same woman he had been rude to yesterday when she accidentally bumped into him while typing on her phone. The same woman who caused his coffee to spill and the bird poo to smear on his only suit. “Sorry,” Ben said, quickly realising his mistake.

Emma stood there, her eyes wide with surprise. “Well, maybe next time, look where you’re going instead of looking at that thing,” she replied with a wry smile, nodding in the direction of Ben’s phone and firing back the exact same line he had so furiously spat at her the day before.

Ben raised his hands in a placating gesture, feeling the heat of embarrassment crawl up his neck. “I’m sorry,” he said with sincerity. “I was a dick. I wasn’t having a great day, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m really sorry.”

Emma’s expression softened slightly. “Apology accepted.”

“I’m Ben. Ben Granger,” he said, thrusting a hand forward.

Emma met his handshake and was surprised at how strong his grip was and how rough his hand felt. “Emma,” she replied as Queenie’s sage advice whispered in her ears. “Doctor Emma Blake.”

“Nice to meet you, Emma. Properly, I mean.”

Emma smiled and felt herself blush. Ben was gorgeous. Yesterday, she didn’t really get a chance to notice how handsome he was, but today, she was drinking in every single detail. His jet-black scruffy hair looked soft and fell loosely over his brow; his skin was sun-kissed; and his eyes were a silvery grey. He had black stubble that was flecked with grey, two dimples on either side of his mouth, and the most perfect, kissable, bow-shaped lips Emma had ever seen on a man.

“Listen,” Ben said rather sheepishly as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I know I caused a scene yesterday, and I really want to make it up to you. Would you like to maybe grab a coffee or something some time? My treat.”

Emma tilted her head, considering his offer. “Coffee, huh? Are you sure you’re not going to throw it at me or something?”

Ben laughed nervously. His smile was another perfect feature of his already faultless face. “No, I promise. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

Emma hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Coffee would be nice.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

CuriosiTEAS,
Glendale

Jack Campbell sat at the table by the window of CuriosiTEAS, absently stirring his Americano. It was mid-morning, and the antique shop cum café was buzzing with the usual regulars – all three of them. Audrey Granger, Betty Worchester, and Jack. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans mingled with the faint scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Jack took a deep breath, trying to relax and not let irritation get the better of him as his eyes kept darting to the door.

Jack checked his watch. Lee was late, which wasn’t unusual. Punctuality wasn’t exactly one of Lee’s strong points, and although Jack loved him dearly, it was most definitely the thing that irritated him the most about his husband.

Jack and Lee had met at a pub during London Pride back in 2016. Jack, two white lines and four pints in, had never been one for “the scene” or sentimentality. He didn’t buy into that whole “their eyes met across a crowded room, and it was love at first sight” bullshit. But their eyes had met across a crowded room, and there was some sort of spark. Love? Doubtful. Lust? Definitely. But also a higher knowing that following that chance meeting of eyes across a crowded pub, everything in his life would be changed for ever.

Jack had transferred to the Kent Police from The Met at the start of 2017. In that same year, he had bought Bluebell Cottage, and Lee had moved in with him in May. In 2018, they were engaged; in 2019, they were married; and yesterday, they celebrated their fifth wedding anniversary. Celebrated wasn’t exactly the right word. They had acknowledged it at best. Jack’s workday had been hectic, and Lee, as a baker who was always up by two in the morning, was exhausted. They got home from Nick and Jasmine’s place at ten o’clock, showered, and had jumped into bed by ten thirty. Jack had hoped for a special anniversary fumble, but Lee was sound asleep before Jack even had time to remove his boxer shorts.

Today, Jack was on night shift, and this date would be the only chance he had to see Lee until tomorrow night. Jack took a sip of his coffee, savouring the bitterness as it spread across his tongue. He glanced at the small table in front of him, where he had placed a folded napkin and a tiny plate with a triple choc brownie. It was Lee’s favourite, and Jack hoped it would be a pleasant surprise. Small cracks had begun to emerge in their marriage over the past few months, but Jack was determined to fix them before the damage was irreparable.

The bell above the door tinkled, and Jack’s heart leaped. He glanced up, expecting to see Lee’s familiar silhouette, but it was just crotchety Ruth Harris, arriving for her daily coffee and natter with Audrey and Betty. Jack picked up his phone, tempted to check for messages, but he knew it would only make him more irritated and possibly even anxious. Instead, he took another sip of coffee and tried to focus on the village green outside.

Finally, the door opened, and Jack saw Lee’s familiar, broad figure stepping inside. Lee was out of breath, and a fine sweat clung to his brow. He scanned the room until he spotted Jack by the window, then smiled a smile that could light up London.

Jack’s irritation melted away as Lee approached, kissed him tenderly on the lips, and slid into the chair across from him. “Sorry I’m late,” Lee said, reaching out to take Jack’s hand.

Jack, usually highly uncomfortable with public displays of affection, allowed Lee to hold his hand and smiled back at him. “No worries. I got you something,” he said, nodding towards the brownie.

Lee’s eyes lit up. “You remembered.” He picked up the brownie and took a small bite. “Perfect, just what I needed.”

They sat there, hands entwined across the table, their voices merging with the gentle noise of the antique shop cum café. For a while, everything else faded away, and it was just the two of them, together, in their favourite spot.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Ashbourne House,
Glendale

In the library of Ashbourne House, Judith Bancroft sat in a high-backed chair, her fingers tapping a gentle rhythm on the upholstered armrest. Her son-in-law, James, stood to the side of the room by the bookcase, arms crossed, and her daughter, Julia, was positioned near the fireplace, her expression as taut as her posture as she looked at her mother’s iPad in her hands. Julia’s eyes searched every millimetre of the post that Kate had uploaded into the “Glendale Village & Surrounds” Facebook group via the Glendale Family Surgery account.

Kate and Marion, huddled around a table in the Oak & Vine with enthusiastic smiles plastered across their faces and wine glasses held in their air, sat beside a woman Julia feared. There, beaming back at her from under the caption, CHEERS TO THE NEW DOC!, was Emily Barlow. Keeper of the secret.

“How long has she been in the village?” James asked, his voice low and steady.

Judith shrugged. “I don’t know, but she was awfully chummy with Elizabeth Baxter in The Store, so she’s obviously not just passing through.”

A frown settled across James’ brow. “Didn’t someone buy Honeysuckle Cottage recently?”

Judith immediately shifted in her seat and looked towards James, her face pale. “You don’t think…”

Julia’s hands trembled ever so slightly as she looked at the image on the screen. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind. The woman staring back at her from the iPad was an older version of the teenager in the photo Judith had shown her moments earlier. Emily Barlow was in Glendale. There to destroy her life; there to reveal the secret; there to tell Nick that she was his biological mother and not Julia.

“Why now?” Judith struggled to comprehend what could’ve brought Emily back into their lives after twenty-five years.

James shrugged. “People change. Circumstances change. Maybe she’s looking for something.”

“Well, she’s getting nothing from us!” Judith barked sharply, her cheeks puffing as she huffed back in her chair. “Over my dead body is that tramp getting anywhere near our Nick!” Her index finger jabbed the armrest for emphasis.

Julia pulled her attention away from the iPad and let out a long, exhausted exhale of breath. “We can’t just ignore the fact that Emily is Nick’s mother.”

Judith’s eyes bulged, and her head snapped in Julia’s direction. “We can try!”

“Mother…”

“No!” Judith brushed away Julia’s exasperation and jumped to her feet. Her eyes narrowed, and her mouth tightened. The room filled with heated tension. “That woman is not Nick’s mother. You are! You raised him! You cared for him! You love him! Not her!”

Julia met her mother’s fiery stare.

“She doesn’t get to come back here and drop this bomb on Nick,” Judith roared, spittle gathering at the corners of her mouth. “She doesn’t get to blow this family apart! Nick is your son, not hers, and I’m going to go and give that little junkie slut a reminder of just exactly who his mother is!”

“No.” Julia’s voice was calm and measured, and it caught Judith off guard. “I will sort this out,” she said resolutely, pulling her shoulders back. “Woman to woman. Mother to mother.”

On the other side of the closed door, Natalie Sinclair listened on, a hand pressed to her mouth at the stunning revelations she had just overheard.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Oak Cottage,
Glendale

Nick Harrington-Jones entered the ragstone cottage, his shoulders tight from a day of marathon meetings, his silk polka dot tie loose around his neck, and a light perspiration on his brow from the ten-minute walk from Glendale Railway Station. The smell of dinner wafted from the kitchen, and he could hear Jasmine humming “Texas Hold ‘Em” to herself as she stirred something on the stove. A small smile crept onto his face, despite the exhaustion.

“Hey, babe,” Nick called out, dropping his backpack by the door and hanging his suit jacket on the coat stand.

Jasmine turned around, her face lighting up when she saw him enter the kitchen. “Hey! You’re home just in time; dinner’s almost ready.”

Nick walked over and gave Jasmine a quick kiss, her sweetness washing away some of the stress of the day. “Smells amazing. What is it?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs. Basic, I know, but I had a craving for it.” Jasmine grinned and gestured for him to sit down at the kitchen table.

Nick loosened his tie more and pulled out a chair, his back cracking as he settled in. “Just what I needed,” he groaned.

Jasmine glanced at him as she poured two glasses of wine. “How was work? You look like you could use a massage or something.”

Nick chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “That would be nice, but I think I’d fall asleep.”

Jasmine smiled, and she joined Nick at the table, setting down the glasses and then the bowls of spaghetti. “Maybe after ‘EastEnders’, then.”

As they ate, the conversation flowed easily, like it always did. Jasmine talked about her day with the kids at school, and Nick told her about the latest dramas at the law firm. Eventually, Jasmine mentioned something that caught Nick’s attention.

“So, the kids in my class are working on family trees,” Jasmine said, twirling her spaghetti around her fork. “It’s a fun little project; the kids seem to love it, and it got me thinking, maybe we should do one of those ancestry DNA tests. You know, for fun. See where we come from.”

Nick smiled at Jasmine’s enthusiasm. It was one of the things he loved most about her – her energy, her zest for life, and the way she always found joy in the little things. “Yeah,” he agreed with a nod. “I guess it could be fun. I’m not sure how much I’ll find out, though. My family history is a pretty straightforward line of nothing but rich white people.”

Jasmine leaned forward, her eyes locking with Nick’s. “You never know! There could be surprises in your lineage. Maybe you’re secretly descended from royalty. I mean, your mother does act like the Queen after all.”

Nick broke out in laughter. “Alright, let’s do it. We’ll order them after dinner, yeah?”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Thyme Cottage,
Glendale

Ashwin Patel pushed open the front door, the scent of motor oil still clinging to his clothes. He was ready to drop his work bag and unwind with Neha, maybe talk about their day, but what he saw on the sofa made him stop. Neha sat with her feet curled under her, a half-empty bottle of wine on the coffee table. Her eyes were distant and glassy.

“Hey,” Ashwin said, trying to keep his voice light. “Rough day?”

Neha looked up, and her smile was there, but it was off. “Yeah, you know. The usual.” She lifted her glass and took a long sip. “Just unwinding.”

Ashwin glanced at the wine bottle, then back at Neha. “That’s a lot of unwinding. You good?”

Neha’s expression darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t have a glass of wine after work? Is that a crime now?”

Ashwin moved closer to the sofa. “It’s not just one glass, though. You’ve been drinking a fair bit, Premika,” he replied, using the Hindi word for “beloved” and doing his best to stay calm. “I’m worried about you.”

Neha rolled her eyes, her words turning sharp. “You always worry, Ash. I’m fine! It’s not like I’m out getting wasted at the pub. I’m at home. Here. With you. Same as always!”

Same as always. The words hung in the air, and although Ashwin tried hard not to take them personally, he knew it was a direct attack on what Neha always called his “dullness”.

Ashwin and Neha, both born and bred in Bradford to Indian families, had been married for nearly twenty years. They’d moved to Glendale six years ago when Neha scored a teaching job at the local school, while Ashwin, a mechanic by trade, opened up a garage on the outskirts of the village. They had both been keen on the idea of having children, but after many years of trying and multiple rounds of failed IVF, the couple were crushed to learn that Ashwin’s sperm count was now too low to conceive naturally. Unable to afford any more rounds of fertility treatment, they had been forced to abandon their dream, and Neha had taken the news particularly hard.

Ashwin sighed, feeling the tension build in his chest. “This isn’t healthy, Neha. It’s not just the wine. It’s everything else. You’re not yourself. You don’t talk about school; you don’t even want to go out anymore.”

“Maybe I don’t have anything to talk about!” Neha snapped, setting her glass down on the coffee table harder than she intended. “I can’t just bring home stories about the kids I don’t have, Ash. Or the family we don’t get to build because of you!”

Ash felt the stab of guilt in his gut – a familiar ache. The back of his kind, brown eyes burned with tears. Hurt, and without uttering a word, Ash turned and walked out of the living room. Neha’s face crumpled like a bulldog as she flopped back on the sofa and sobbed. Neha yearned for a baby, a child of her own, yet she knew that was the one thing Ashwin could never give her, and time was now against her.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Glenbrook Farm,
Glendale

Ben sat on the sofa, the soft glow of the TV playing “The One Show”, its volume turned low to avoid waking the kids. Both were nestled into his sides, fast asleep after a big day at school. The rhythmic breathing of his son, Oliver, and the occasional sigh from his daughter, Poppy, who still clutched a fold of Ben’s check shirt in her hand for security, were comforting, a reminder of the best parts of being a parent. However, the fact that the six-year-old twins had crashed out before seven thirty meant only one thing: they were obviously coming down with something.

Ben pulled out his phone, the familiar blue and white of Facebook lighting up his face as he began to scroll. He wasn’t really interested in the posts from old school friends or the ads for things he’d never buy. His mind was on the upcoming coffee with Emma. They had agreed to coffee at eleven on Saturday, and Ben was still surprised she had agreed to meet him. He was determined to make a good impression – something that showed he wasn’t always a bird-poop-smeared, coffee-stained jerk.

The phone vibrated in his hand, a jarring interruption, and Ben stared at the name on the screen.

Rebecca

Ben felt a surge of annoyance at seeing his estranged wife’s name. He refused to answer, declined the call, and the screen immediately returned to Facebook. Ben continued to mindlessly scroll and then stopped. He felt a twist of nervousness in his stomach and blinked at the animated photo of Emma, Kate, and Marion with wine glasses raised aloft in The Oak & Vine. Confusion reigned for a moment as Ben tried to understand how Emma had already infiltrated his feed. Damn algorithms. He quickly realised the photo had in fact been posted to the “Glendale Village & Surrounds” group. Ben tapped on the photo and zoomed in on Emma. There was no doubt about it; with her green eyes and brown hair, she was utterly gorgeous.

Ben felt Oliver shift in his sleep as his small hand clutched onto Ben’s shirt, perfectly mimicking his twin sister. Ben smiled, wrapping his arm around his son. Whatever happened on Saturday, Ben knew this was the most important thing – these quiet moments with the kids, where the world seemed right, even if it was just for an evening.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Ashbourne House,
Glendale

The amber glow of the desk lamp illuminated the rich mahogany and dark leather of the study. Shadows cascaded across the thick Persian rug and danced along the intricate woodwork of the ceiling. The room exuded opulence, from the framed artworks on the walls to the gleaming crystal decanter on the corner table.

James sat amidst the grandeur as his sharp eyes flicked over the screen of this laptop, while one hand gripped a glass of malt whisky.

The door opened, followed by a quiet tap-tap of knuckles, and a delicate waft of Chanel No. 5 filled the air. Natalie slipped inside the study, her steps silent on the plush carpet. She wore a fitted black dress that clung to her curves, the neckline low enough to draw attention but high enough to keep one guessing. Natalie’s pumps barely made a whisper as she crossed the room, her gaze fixed on James.

“Bit late for you to still be here,” James said as he looked at his watch.

“The prep for the meeting in Leeds took longer than expected,” Natalie replied. She looked around in an Oscar-worthy performance. “Julia not about?”

“No. She’s gone to the W.I. AGM.”

“So, we’re all alone?” Natalie’s voice was a sultry purr. The sound was velvety, smooth, and inviting, with just a hint of mischief. She moved to James’ side. Natalie trailed her fingers lightly across the back of the chair and then across his shoulder. The touch was almost electric, and Natalie noticed movement in James’ trousers.

James glanced up, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection of his laptop screen. “Just for a couple of hours,” he replied, his voice steady, though his heart rate quickened at the closeness. “Something needed her seeing to.”

Natalie’s lips curled into a subtle smile. She leaned in a little closer, her breath warm against James’ ear. “And what about you, boss? Something you need seeing to?” she whispered, her tone dripping in allure. Her hand slid down James’ arm, the touch slow and deliberate, sending waves of anticipation through him.

James turned his head slightly, his gaze locking on Natalie’s. There was a spark of challenge in his eyes, mixed with a curiosity that he couldn’t quite hide.

Without another word spoken, Natalie’s smile widened, a playful glint in her eyes. Her fingers traced gently along James’ collar before slowly following the line of buttons down the front of his shirt. The air crackled with sexual tension. Natalie could feel James’ rapid heartbeat with her fingertips as he shifted in his chair, an obvious bulging in his trousers now too apparent to ignore. Natalie’s fingers danced down the line of buttons over James’ stomach to his waist. Their eyes met in an intense stare. James swallowed nervously and bit down on his bottom lip in anticipation as Natalie’s hand wavered near his belt.

“See you in the morning, boss,” she whispered, her eyes flickering with satisfaction before she straightened herself and sashayed out of the room, leaving James wanting.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Oak Cottage,
Glendale

Nick sat on the couch, his hand absentmindedly stroking Jasmine’s curly black hair as her head rested on his lap. The evening had been a quiet one, just the two of them at home, and it was perfect.

Jasmine had been excited about watching the upcoming episode “EastEnders” for weeks. It was all she had talked about. Stacey and Martin this, Sharon and Kathy that. They’d planned it all out: snacks, drinks, a blanket to share, and no interruptions. But now, as the doof-doofs sounded and the opening credits rolled, Jasmine was fast asleep, her breathing slow and steady as she came down with a summer cold.

Nick glanced down at his sleeping fiancée, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Her hair was soft under his fingers, and he felt a sense of peace as he gently smoothed it back. He adjusted the blanket that was draped over them, tucking it around Jasmine’s shoulders to keep her warm. She shifted slightly, letting out a soft sigh, but didn’t wake.

Words couldn’t express Nick’s feelings for Jasmine; there simply wasn’t one in the English language that could describe how much he utterly adored and loved her. Jasmine was kind, compassionate, caring, and loyal. She made him laugh, and when she was around, life was quite simply perfect.

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Village Hall,
Glendale

The village hall buzzed with a familiar energy as women of all ages streamed in, their voices weaving together in a steady hum of laughter, gossip, and warm greetings. It was the night of the Glendale Women’s Institute’s annual general meeting, a much-anticipated event that marked the culmination of a year’s worth of work.

The hall, usually sparse and utilitarian, was transformed into a festive space with bright banners, garlands of flowers, and tables laden with homemade treats. The aroma of freshly brewed tea mingled with the scent of scones and cakes, enticing everyone who entered. A large sign near the entrance proudly announced, “WELCOME TO THE WOMEN’S INSTITUTE AGM!” in bold letters, flanked by photographs from past events and crafts made by members.

Judith, the chapter president, stood at the side of the hall, watching the hubbub but distracted by her thoughts. She ran a hand absentmindedly over her string of pearls.

“Julia not joining us?” Pamela Granger asked as she approached Judith with a small paper plate laden with baked treats.

“No,” Judith replied with a forced smile as she was brought back to the land of the living. “She had something she needed to do.”

–  G L E N D A L E  –

Honeysuckle Cottage,
Glendale

Emma sat in her favourite armchair, the only piece of usable furniture not lumbered with moving boxes, with a cup of herbal tea in her hand and “EastEnders” on the telly. The night was warm, and a gentle breeze wafted in from the cracked window.

Suddenly, a sharp, insistent knock echoed through the hallway, shattering the peace. Emma frowned. Who could be knocking at this hour? It was well past the time for visitors, and she wasn’t expecting anyone. Emma set her tea down on the side table and rose to her feet. As she moved to the front door, the knock came again, more urgent and forceful this time.

A chill ran down Emma’s spine. She opened the door, her hand tightening on the knob, and there, cast in shadows by the sinking sun, was Julia Harrington-Jones. She wore a flowy grey cardigan, her blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun, and her eyes – those sharp, calculating eyes – locked onto Emma with a look that was somewhere between hatred and disdain.

“Hello, Emily.” Julia’s voice was as cold and modulated as she placed emphasis on a name Emma had long abandoned. “I think we need to have a little chat, don’t you?”

NEXT TIME…

• The past is revealed as Julia and Emma go head-to-head.