The Great Village Show. Alexandra Brown

puff of air. ‘It seems you’ll be getting your own way after all … St Cuthbert’s called.’

      ‘Oh?’ Jessie said, purposely making it sound vague, knowing better than to show delight on hearing that perhaps her wish was coming to fruition after all.

      ‘Full up!’ Sebastian pulled a face. ‘Can you believe it? The only prep school for miles around and they don’t have space for three more. It’s preposterous. I knew I should have registered them in utero.’ Sebastian shook his head and shoved his hands deep into his pinstripe trouser pockets.

      ‘Never mind, darling. You didn’t know then that we would be living here; it really can’t be helped,’ Jessie soothed, figuring a show of solidarity and understanding was exactly what was required right now.

      ‘Hmm, true! Well, perhaps it’s for the best in any case, St Cuthbert’s doesn’t even feature in the “Top 100 Best Schools Guide”, which is exactly what I told them! And that if they ever do manage to achieve such status, which I imagine to be highly unlikely, then perhaps we’ll reconsider!’ Sebastian postured, while Jessie withered inwardly, figuring it wouldn’t bode well for them integrating successfully into village life. Word got around rapidly in small communities, Jessie knew that, and the last thing she wanted was to be known as the wife of the rude banker down from London.

      Jessie really wanted to fit in, make new friends and be community-spirited, and the Great Village Show was the perfect opportunity for her to do so. She’d had every intention of going along to the meeting in the Duck & Puddle pub garden – Sebastian had been working late in London, so had chosen to stay in the company flat – and with her dad visiting overnight to see the new house and help with the unpacking and the childcare, Jessie had a rare opportunity to venture out on her own. But it had been harder than she had anticipated, with so many people there. And then when the pretty, friendly-looking woman chairing the meeting had waved her over to join them, Jessie had panicked. With all eyes on her and the bruises on her thigh, not to mention the scrape on her back from a previous altercation, a continuous reminder of how inadequate and raw she felt for not having the courage to call Sebastian out and challenge him, the little confidence left in Jessie had waned entirely.

      ‘So what are we going to do then?’ Jessie asked tentatively, glancing at the grass. Yes, far better to let Sebastian feel in charge; let him think a change of plan was his idea.

      ‘Well you need to get them into the village school, of course!’ Sebastian instructed. ‘And sharpish, because it seems a state school education is de rigueur these days, according to today’s FT.’ He paused to do quote signs in the air. ‘Yes, “state till eight”, it said, so before you know it, every bugger will be jumping on the bandwagon …’

      ‘Is it really?’ Jessie replied carefully, with just the right amount of surprise in her voice.

      ‘Indeed. So don’t fuck it up and forget or they’ll miss out on that too. I’m not paying for home tutors. Not after the fortune I forked out on that useless Norland nanny.’ Sebastian turned to walk away, leaving Jessie with an enormous sense of satisfaction as she ducked down out of sight behind the potting shed to do a silent high five. And it had never been Jessie’s wish to employ a nanny, anyway. Sebastian had selected her, saying it was the norm in the section of society that he came from, further highlighting the chasmic difference in their backgrounds. Jessie had been relieved when the nanny had declined to come to Tindledale with them.