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wondering what was coming next. ‘Since Diana has such a high opinion of herself, she can be a real madam. She can run an escort agency.’ Gasps rang round the room. Nigel looked directly at Diana. ‘You can choose whoto send to the staterooms when my sons and I call for service.’
    Jasper and Greg grinned.
    â€˜It’ll be a chance for you women to put on your best finery,’ Nigel continued. ‘A chance to get all “dolled up” — wear some make-up, to get out of those grey tunics you’re always complaining about.’
    Diana stared forlornly at the table, unable to look the other women in the eye. How was she going to choose who would be sent?
    Nigel sneered at her bowed head. ‘I thought that would shut you up. By the way, don’t bother volunteering yourself, and don’t send up any of the other old hags. We need women who are going to have our babies.
    â€˜You will also continue to oversee the operation of the kitchens and the house. The other person who has too much to say for himself — Duncan Steed — can oversee the remainder of the estate. Now the Daltons have absconded, you’ll have to shuffle the Greys and Steeds between maintenance, garden and farm tasks.’
    The remaining family members looked at him in astonishment. Two of the Dalton family had ‘absconded’ courtesy of bullets from his sons!
    â€˜With a smaller population,’ Nigel continued, ‘and a reduced requirement for water, the treadmill no longer needs to be operated twenty-four hours a day.’
    Again the members of the community looked at one another. They all knew the treadmill had been operated continuously purely as a means of punishment. Mark and Steven had discovered that ninety percent of the water pumped into the tanks above Cromwell’s Tower flowed out of the overflow pipes onto the roof and back down into the reservoir below Flag Court, making it a never-ending task. Worse still, Nigel knew that they knew, yet he was selectively ignoring the fact, making out that he was doing them a favour when in fact he and his sons had exacerbated the labour shortage.
    â€˜And finally,’ Nigel said, collecting up his papers from the lectern and pointing at Mary-Claire, ‘if Mark or any of the others show their face at Haver again and any of you help them in any way — remember, I’ve got her. If they return and you fail to notify me immediately, she won’t be the only one to die.’
    An excited murmuring spread through the Great Hall. Did this mean Mark and Steven were coming back? Did Nigel know something they didn’t?
    â€˜Silence,’ Nigel threatened. ‘Diana and Duncan, get this rabble back to work.’ He turned to his sons. ‘Come on, we’ve got things to do.’
    His speech complete, he strode out, dragging along the hapless Mary-Claire by her lead. Jasper, Damian and Greg scurried after him.
    â€˜My poor little girl,’ sobbed the distraught Cheryl. She fiddled nervously with the safety pins that pulled her grey tunic high on her neck, hiding the horrendous scars left by the doctors who had experimented on her following the pandemic, in a vain attempt to discover why she was immune to the disease. Her relatives rose from their seats and clustered around her.
    â€˜Don’t worry. No one will step out of line. We’ll all make sure Mary-Claire remains safe,’ Theresa promised.
    â€˜Why did Nigel mention Mark?’ Jennifer asked excitedly. ‘Is he coming back?’
    â€˜He told me before he left that he would come back one day,’ Paul said.
    â€˜Are you sure?’
    â€˜I’m positive. He even told me that if things changed, and it was safe for him to enter Haver, I was to fly both the Union Jack and the Cross of St George above the West Gate.’
    â€˜Which means he wasn’t expecting to be back for some time,’ pointed out Duncan.
    â€˜So why does Nigel