Chapter SevenChecking herself in the mirror, Jenny tenderly felt the welts that had appeared on her throat.
Proof enough, surely? She was unsure what to do, torn between reporting what had happened to the police, and the embarrassment of not being able to make any charges stick. There were three of them and they would all back one another up. She had been foolish to go up there alone and now she was reaping the rewards of her rash, unthinking behaviour. Dabbing some antiseptic cream on the raised, red marks, she was about to go over to the kennels to let Scruffy out when the telephone rang. It was the other farmer who lived on the other side of the island, Mr Fletcher. Mr Fletcher was quite old, and had been ill recently, but refused to give up what had been a lifelong devotion to his cho
