The bus began to slow as it reached the outskirts of the village, and Tess dismissed thoughts of Snowy as she thanked the conductor and jumped down. It was a nice village, with half a dozen shops including a bakery and a blacksmith’s forge, and it reminded her sharply of Jonty and the Bells. She decided that when she got home she would write to Jonty and tell him all about the angora rabbits. He would be interested, not in what sort of profit she might make from them, but in the animals themselves: what they ate, how they bred and how best to treat their long silky fur. Snowy, on the other hand, would only be interested in how much money she would get for each one. But she must not judge Snowy unfairly, because he was not a country boy and had no real interest in country matters.

Tess hefted her shoulder bag and headed for the small post office where she would get directions to the Sheraton farm, which she knew to be half a mile outside the village. She entered the shop and five minutes later was out again with the postmistress’s precise instructions ringing in her ears. ‘Miss it you cannot, cariad,’ the wizened little woman behind the counter had said. ‘Go straight along the road till you reach a muddy little lane. The Sheratons’ place is amidst the trees on your left.’ Her eyes had gleamed with curiosity. ‘Goin’ to see them fancy rabbits, is you? Eh, old Mr Sheraton would ha’ laughed his son to scorn, but already young Aled is doin’ all right with ’em.’

Tess, not wishing to spend half the morning gossiping, thanked the woman for the information and set off along the road at a brisk pace. But now her thoughts had turned from Snowy to Jonty and she found herself remembering her time at Bell Farm with real nostalgia. When she had first gone there she had been a miserable, awkward child whose bed-wetting habits had already caused three prospective foster-mothers to reject her. She had begged to be allowed to return to the city, promising good behaviour, dry beds, anything, if only she could go back to her own home, but her mother, summoned from Liverpool to remove her from the third household, had grown cross and Tess remembered wincing back as her shoulders were seized and she was given a spiteful shake. ‘You’ll do as you’re told. I’ve applied to join the ATS and I don’t intend to back out because you’re a selfish little beast,’ her mother had said. ‘My war work will be with the army and yours will be to make a success of your next posting, so don’t let me hear one word of complaint.’