His voice faded into the whine once more and Glenys saw her opportunity. The moment he lifted his eyes again she gave him her biggest and brightest smile. ‘I was rude and said things I shouldn’t. I’m sorry, Pete; I should have remembered that a man living alone has no one to cook for him.’ And then, unable to resist, she added: ‘But living alone doesn’t mean you don’t have to wash.’

Pete’s mouth opened and shut a couple of times and once more the look that he cast at her was unmistakably hostile. But then he must have remembered that Taid was listening to every word, for he gave a little bob of his head. ‘You’re right, of course, missus.’ He cast a wistful look at the food on the table. ‘I’d best be on me way then, but I’ll be back in time to hear that speech.’

Nain had been an amused listener, but now she too stood up, wagging a hand at Pete to indicate that he should sit down once more. ‘I won’t have it said that anyone who came to Weathercock Farm went away hungry,’ she said briskly. ‘After all, a man who’s drunk deep of our cider can’t be blamed for having no hold on his tongue.’ She turned to Glenys. ‘Give him a couple of rashers between two slices of bread and he can eat it on his way to the well. But you’ve learned some home truths today, Pete, and unwelcome though they might have been, you must take them to heart. So I give you fair warning, because that’s my way, that on the days you’re working for us you’ll get a bacon butty to eat in the yard and nothing more, until you stop smelling of sheep dung.’

Glenys expected a repetition of Pete’s outrage at the accusation of being smelly, but instead he took the big bacon sandwich she was holding out with a mumbled thank you, scraped back his chair and stood up, addressing himself to Nain. ‘Thanks, missus,’ he said almost humbly. ‘I’ll mind your words, and mind my tongue, too.’ Then he grinned round the assembled company, displaying his one yellow tooth. ‘Mornin’ to you all, ladies and gents.’

Everyone chorused ‘Good morning’, and said nothing else until the door had closed behind their visitor. Only then did Sam let out his breath in a long sigh. ‘Phew!’ he said. ‘That was a nasty one!’ He turned to Glenys. ‘Can you believe that nobody has ever criticised him before? It seems impossible. But he certainly behaved as though he were astonished that anyone should think him dirty.’

Glenys had been standing throughout the encounter, but now she sank into her chair, pulling her plate of bacon and eggs towards her. ‘I know I only spoke the truth – he really is filthy, and he smells like a midden – but it was wrong of me to say it in front of the whole family,’ she said remorsefully. ‘I expect that’s why the Davieses won’t have anything to do with him, but even so . . .’