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Puzzled, Rose closed the door and went back to the bed. She knelt down and moved the stained chamber pot aside before dragging out the cumbersome box.

It took a couple of seconds for her mind to register the fact that the padlock wasn't securing the hasp, but lying open on top on the lid - minus the key.

Eli! He'd been hanging around on the landing. All that pretence at grief must have been a sham. She'd obviously disturbed him tampering with father's box. Locking the bedroom door must have stopped him getting any further, unless? Surely he didn't get that scrap of paper from here?

Furiously she swept the padlock off the lid and opened up the box. Apart from a few letters scattered on the top and a broken elastic band, the contents looked tidy. The biscuit tin, where father kept his money was still intact, wedged sideways amongst some bundles of clothes. Everything looked fine, except for the strewn letters.

Slowly she fingered the elastic band, her eyes darkening with fresh anger. Had he been at the money as well? Her hand reached for the biscuit tin and then drew back. Perhaps she should wait for Archie after all; show him the way she'd found things, but she was curious. There had to be some cash left over from last year's strawberry crop. Father was never short of a bob or two, even though he was tight on the rest of them. Archie hadn't paid Henry for the funeral yet, and she could do with something to top up her housekeeping after all the extra expense. That ham hadn't come cheap. Surely it wouldn't do any harm to look?

Suddenly she became aware of footsteps on the landing. Thank goodness - Archie was up. She hurried to the door and unlocked it.

Eli swung round, and gawped at her: 'Blimey Rose! You don't 'alf look a sight. I've seen better looking rats in the trenches.'

Rose's hand shot to her head and grasped a bunch of straggly hair. She felt vulnerable and infuriated that Eli should see her like this.

'Why are you up this early?' she snapped.

'I'm going to the bog,' he retorted. Then he stepped towards her and straining to look into the room added: 'Anyway, what you doin' in 'ere?'

Rose tried to block his view but being taller he was able to see over her and his eyes alighted onto the box.

'There ain't another \"will\", if that's what you're looking for? There's only the one,' he lowered his voice and added defiantly: 'the one that favours me.'

Rose exploded with rage. 'Don't talk rubbish! You're a miserable foundling and that scrap of paper you waved about is illegal - now get out of here.'

She reached back and tried to close the door, but Eli pushed past her.

'You've always 'ated me. Only seven, I was, when you told me I'd been found.'

'Oh, I remember that day,' Rose hissed. 'Father showering you with presents while poor little Cis had to make do with sweets. You were always a slimy little tyke, Eli, from the day you arrived.'

'Well I'm glad Pa gave you a clout - spiteful bitch!'

'It was worth it just to see the look on your face,' Rose flung back at him.

'I've got the upper 'and now though. Just you get down to old Reeves, that solicitor from Woolsden - 'e's expectin' you.'

Rose frowned. What did Eli know about solicitors?

'Get out! You've no right in here.'

'I 'ave. There's somethin' in the box that's mine. Something I gave to Pa when I came home.'

'What?' Rose asked contemptuously.

'It don't mat'er; it's mine that's all.'

'Well whatever it is you aren't having it, because from now on this room stays locked.'

Eli's eyes flashed downwards but Rose anticipated his next move. Knocking his hand back she reached the key first and snatched it out of the lock.

Clutching it to her chest she recoiled from his fury and screamed: 'If you lay a hand on me I'll call Archie.'

Eli snorted. 'What sick-'ead. He couldn't knock the skin off a... Suddenly his right hand flew to his stomach and he groaned. 'If I didn't have the shits, I'd wring your ruddy neck.'

Before Rose could retaliate, Eli was gripped by another spasm. Wailing, he pushed past her, hurtled along the landing and down the stairs.

Slowly she opened her hand. There were white crater marks from where the key had been digging into her palm. Flexing her fingers she watched the skin turn pink as the circulation came flooding back. She looked back at the box. What had he given father? Probably some filthy postcards.

Aware that he could be back at any moment, she quickly pushed the chest back under the bed. Then she noticed her mud-splattered skirt hanging against the wall and remembered Jim's condolence letter. Retrieving the damp envelope she locked the door and put the key, along with the envelope, in her pinafore pocket and went downstairs.

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