Jo Bishop looked out of the window as she turned on her laptop. She had resisted connecting to the Internet since the previous Friday and her flaming row with Bill. The ungrateful so-and-so! All that work on those transcriptions and not a word of thanks! That’s the last time I do a favour for him!

And yet, as the machine powered up, she hoped there would be an email from him asking her to do more. She had so enjoyed the research into Riddles’ mill and the stories of the workers in particular. And she welcomed the interaction with Bill. He might be a selfish bastard when it came to acknowledging assistance, but Professor William Harker was one hell of an academic. And signing up for that part-time MA in Local History had been one of the best things Jo Bishop had done for a...

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