‘It’s a good thing we were still sleeping when the shepherd came for his flock,’ Glenys remarked as they pushed their way through the thick snow towards where they hoped the road would be. ‘What an adventure we shall have to tell Jimmy and Mo when we see them! Only I expect they will say that we should have made ourselves some sort of shelter in that thicket,’ she added, pointing.

‘Yes, and that we should have snared a rabbit or fished a trout out of the nearest stream,’ Sam agreed. He grinned down at her. ‘I shall put all the blame on you and say that you were too finicky to start building a cabin of willow wands. Not that there are any willows around. Oh, look.’ They had reached the top of a small hillock, and saw below them a forest of closely packed trees which stretched for some considerable distance.

‘We’ve reached the Wild Wood, and beyond the Wild Wood is the wide world,’ Glenys said, and just as she said it the clouds parted and the sun gleamed gold on the snow-laden branches, turning the scene into a thing of beauty.

‘Isn’t that something?’ Sam said softly. ‘And of course that must be the forest you can see from the back bedroom window in Weathercock Farm. It used to be Grace’s room, but she moved out whenever I was staying with the family because, bless her, she was always generous and thought her room a good deal nicer than the little one in the attic into which I would have had to squeeze my six foot two.’

‘That’s the room Jimmy will be having once Nain has got things sorted out,’ Glenys said. ‘She sounded as though she really wanted the children to live on the farm. I do like your mother-in-law, Sam.’

Sam nodded. They had been standing side by side staring out across the glittering scene, but now he put an arm round her waist and turned her towards a tiny point of golden light which the sun had just illumined. ‘See that? It’s the weathercock on the big barn. We’re lucky that it’s a clear day, because it must be all of five miles away, but now we know which way to walk we’ll be there in no time.’

‘It’s all very well for you, with your great long legs; it will take me a good deal longer than “no time” to walk five miles,’ Glenys said apologetically. ‘However, when I think of last night’s delicious smell of frying bacon I do believe I might actually run to keep up with your long strides. And there’ll be a kettle jumping on the hob, and a jug of creamy milk from the dairy . . .’

‘Shut up,’ Sam said laughingly. ‘I’m sure we needn’t waste time eating snow, because I believe it doesn’t quench your thirst, so we’ll put all our energy into walking, if you please. You’ll find it easier going if we link arms.’ He looked down at her, the smile lurking once more. ‘Having spent the night together, linking arms seems pretty tame.’