‘There you are, you see,’ Mr Bell said kindly. ‘You’re selfish, like all young things. But there, mebbe I’m wrong and Mrs Williams and Mr Payne have no thought of marrying.’ He took a last long drink of his tea, set the mug down and scraped his chair back. ‘Well, tomorrow’s the great day, so I’ve warned the men that they’ll need to get ahead with their work and they’ve promised to do so, which means Jonty and myself have got to get a move on as well.’

But all day Mr Bell’s words kept repeating themselves inside Tess’s head. Was she being selfish? She knew very well that Albert was fond of Gran – more than fond – and she believed he had suggested marriage, albeit tentatively. As she helped around the farm she pondered on her own behaviour and came to the sad conclusion that she had indeed thought only of herself and never of Gran. Oh, she had grown accustomed to Gran and Albert’s going to the theatre or cinema together, taking coach trips down to the coast, even attending occasional tea dances, but she had always behaved, she realised now, as though she and Gran should need no company other than their own. She had not exactly excluded Albert from the pet shop – she could scarcely do so since he had put a fair amount of money into the venture – but she had always made it plain that he was there more or less on sufferance.

This thought came to her whilst she was collecting eggs and she was astonished to feel her cheeks grow hot. How could she have behaved so badly? It had simply never occurred to her that one day she might be the little bird who flew the nest, leaving Gran to grow old alone. As soon as she got home she must put her arms round Gran and give her a big hug, admit that she had been both selfish and thoughtless and tell her that she must make Albert Payne the happiest man on earth by agreeing to marry him.

Not unnaturally, this made Tess think of her own situation. Snowy had had one of the many horrible fevers to which the men were prone when on jungle patrol, and as a result was being repatriated a month or so earlier than he had expected. Before he left England he had given her a locket in the shape of a heart with a small photograph of himself inside. Subsequently he had sent her photographs of himself in his tropical kit, sometimes with other soldiers, sometimes alone, but always looking so different from the little photograph in the locket that she thought she would scarcely have known him. When she had commented on this one day to Albert, he had said that Snowy had gone out to Malaya a boy and would be coming home a man, and now, faced with the truth about her own behaviour, Tess realised that Snowy was not the only one. She too had changed, from a girl to a young woman, and a young woman who was still uncertain of her own feelings – except that she was not in love with Snowy, had never been, would never be. Her feelings about Jonty, however, were muddled. Snowy had been very physical, embarrassingly so to the young Tess, but Jonty had never kissed her, save in the most brotherly fashion. She supposed that he must love Pamela Davies, though she had never seen them exchange more than the most casual of greetings or farewells. But who could fail to love Pamela, with her glowing skin, glorious gleaming hair and neat figure?