‘I know, but I think Father would like it. He sometimes says “ask Mother” to me, and I’m not sure if it’s because he forgets or because it’s something he wants. So I try not to call you anything.’

Ursula realised that this was true, and she had never noticed. ‘I see.’

‘I had a mother and she was not nice. She used to say bad things about me. She whispered them in my ears so no one else would hear. And you don’t do things like that if you love someone, so she definitely didn’t love me. She once told me she named me Ann because it was the least interesting name she could think of. She didn’t even put an e on the end of it.’

‘Finlay calls you Annie Bee sometimes. Is that because your initials are A.B.?’

‘He only does it when he’s being nice.’ Ann looked across at Ursula. ‘It’s because I had lots of black hair when I was born, and then my skin turned yellow for a few days. He was four and a half, and he thought I looked like a bumble bee.’

Ursula listened. She listened more intently than she had ever done in her life.

‘You are nice to me and nice to Finlay and especially nice to Isobel.’

‘But you don’t want to call me Mother?’

‘No, I don’t.’ Ann was suddenly so definite and so confident it was breathtaking. ‘I had someone called Mother and she is gone now and I’m glad.’ The silence continued for a few more houses. ‘I would like to call you Ursula.’

‘I see.’

‘And I want to be like you. I don’t want any more meat on my plate.’

They had fallen further behind John and Finlay, Ursula deliberately slowing down so that the conversation would be private. She could already anticipate how John was going to take all this. It was not going to go down well.

Chapter 23

June 1911