Winnie walked over to the selection the shopkeeper indicated. She observed the pieces, the corners of her mouth twitching as she suppressed a wicked smile. There was a brooch with a crow and she briefly delighted in the fantasy of giving that to her mother-in-law. Of course, she never could. Hugo's silences were dreadful enough. She couldn't bear the thought of him actively giving her the cold shoulder.

Her eyes flashed up at the other woman's face when she mentioned price ranges. What was that supposed to mean? Her husband was the director of the Whitby Building Society! They weren't poor. "Probably something in the top tier," she said, not out of love for her mother-in-law, but to compensate for her wounded pride. "Do you and your husband make all of it yourselves?"