Tess smiled back at him, but knew it was a poor effort. ‘I don’t think Mr Payne would have sent a telegram if Gran’s injuries weren’t serious,’ she said. ‘And she wouldn’t be in hospital either, not if they were trivial.’

‘True,’ Mr Bell said, nodding his head. He turned to Jonty. ‘If you’re going to go, best get a move on. You want to pack a bag, and you’d best leave me a list of tasks you’ll want one of the men to take on.’ He turned to Tess. ‘You’d best be packing yourself, my woman, and Mother here will put you up a few little treats for your gran . . .’

‘Right,’ Tess said, heading for the stairs, but Mrs Bell detained her. ‘Wait you a minute. Where’s Jonty goin’ to lay his head? We don’t want no gossip . . . some folk have evil minds.’

Tess laughed, unable to stop herself reflecting that it was Mrs Bell whose evil mind would start thinking things if she and Jonty shared the flat in Gran’s absence. But on this score at least she was able to reassure her hostess. ‘He’ll sleep in Mr Payne’s spare bedroom, I expect,’ she promised. ‘And thank you so much for inviting Gran; I know she’d love to come as soon as she’s well enough, because she’s said many a time how she regrets the fact that Bell Farm is such a long way off. If it was nearer she’d have come over long ago to thank you in person for your kindness to me.’

Mrs Bell began to ask whether there was anything else she could do to help but her son shook his head at her. ‘Leave it, Ma. If I’m to go to Liverpool with Tess then Pa will have to drive us to Norwich Thorpe and you might as well come along too. Then all the way there you can be finding out how best to help the Williamses.’ With that he disappeared up the stairs close on Tess’s heels, and in less time than Tess could have believed possible they were packing themselves into the Ford with Mr and Mrs Bell in the front and Tess, Jonty and all their luggage in the back.

Tess had only experienced Mr Bell’s driving when he was at the wheel of the Morris, and found his erratic progress in the Ford rather frightening; indeed, under normal circumstances she would have been terrified, but because she was longing to reach their destination she made no complaint as the tyres squealed on corners and the driver, instead of indicating right or left, kept turning the windscreen wipers on and off. It was Jonty who hissed in his breath between his teeth at every junction, for Mrs Bell seemed to take her husband’s driving for granted, though she did suggest mildly, as they turned into the station forecourt, that they might accompany the young people on to the concourse and have a cup of tea in the refreshment room ‘to calm our nerves’.