One silver candle holder went missing. There were two of them, an unappealing set, stumpy and old. Her mother’s. Kept in the back of the cupboard, taken out only for occasional polishing. One was gone. It was evening when Isabel found out. She rummaged through the kitchen, dining room, thinking—This will prove me right, this will— She found it under a cabinet: as though it had been placed on the table and had then fallen and rolled out of sight. Who would do that, Isabel wondered, and felt that she knew already.
