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up, however – perhaps the result of the sea air. She clearly lived an independent life of her own choosing – if the beaming smile and general air of serene confidence were anything to go by. An obviously home-made iced walnut cream cake made its appearance on the tea table, set amidst a bone-china tea set. Georgia thanked her for going to so much trouble, and Peter joined in enthusiastically. Excellent carer Margaret might be, but she believed in healthy apples, not cakes.
    â€˜Nothing’s too much trouble for anyone interested in my Tom,’ Cherry answered matter-of-factly.
    â€˜Will it be painful for you to talk about him?’ Georgia asked gently, the girl at the police station still fixed in her mind.
    â€˜Not a bit, if it helps.’ Cherry sat to attention in her chair, almost as if she too remembered her younger self’s long, anxious wait.
    â€˜You always believed him innocent of killing his wife, didn’t you?’ Georgia asked.
    â€˜Of course,’ came the surprised reply. ‘My Tom couldn’t have murdered anyone.’
    â€˜But someone did. Do you know who that might have been or why?’
    â€˜No, my dear. I’ve been asking myself that for over fifty years. I told the police Tom couldn’t have done it, but it didn’t make any difference. I told them he was at the Black Lion with me until closing time, but they didn’t call me as a witness. They must have thought I would be lying to protect him. But I wasn’t. He was there all right. He was with me in a small bar at the back, not in the public where the rest of them were. Tom wouldn’t have got home until about eleven thirty, and the police said he called them at eleven forty. Not much time to have a fight, kill her and then straight away ring the police. It isn’t a natural way of going on, is it?’ She began to look distressed, and Georgia hastened to calm her down.
    â€˜He was acquitted,’ Georgia said soothingly. ‘Did the police come to see you after that?’
    â€˜No. No one did. Only Harold, and Micky and Sandy, of course. Everyone still seemed to think he was guilty.’
    â€˜What did you think of Joan? Did you like her?’
    Cherry giggled – like a schoolgirl, Georgia thought, caught out saying something naughty. ‘No, I didn’t. I was eighteen, my dear. I was in love with this older man, so of course I didn’t like his wife. I thought Tom was the cat’s whiskers. So funny, so gentle, and I had not had much fun and gentleness in my life up till then. I thought Joan was all right too, till she found out about me and Tom. She was a stunner and a lovely dancer. All the men fell for her, but she was a holy terror to Tom and to me when she found out.’
    â€˜When was that?’ Peter asked. ‘The prosecution thought it was the night of the murder.’
    Cherry looked surprised. ‘Oh, no. Tom told her some days before that. He was going to leave her and marry me.’
    Georgia’s heart sank. This was a different picture to the one they had been given by Ken, and it was not a good one. Why hadn’t the prosecution pounced on this? Tom would have had a motive, if Joan had refused to let him go. Divorce laws were far from lenient then. Either he would have to sue on grounds of her infidelity or persuade her to divorce him on those grounds – and from what Georgia had gathered about Tom, he was hardly likely to have let Cherry’s name be used.
    â€˜I wasn’t there, of course,’ Cherry continued. ‘Tom just told me they’d had a row.’
    Georgia guessed what Peter was thinking. It was looking worse for Tom, and Cherry must have realized it, because she looked anxiously from one to the other. ‘But he would never have killed her over it. Tom wasn’t like that.’
    â€˜Why did Joan pick Tom to marry? From what you say he wasn’t the type to fit her lifestyle, and in the photos