‘Glenys isn’t here,’ Nain said rather guardedly, glancing at Sam, but there was no sign on his face of either distress or annoyance. So they did quarrel, Nain thought. ‘But she’s left me a letter, which I’ve not yet read. However, the time has come to do so. Eat up your porridge, children; whether it’s school or the harvest, you’ll still want to face the day with your stomachs lined.’ As she spoke, she picked up the envelope, slit it open and pulled out the page it contained. She read it quickly to herself and then aloud:

‘Dearest Nain and Taid,

‘You’ve been so good to me, so kind and generous, but I’ve thought it over carefully and listened to people talking, and this helped me to come to a decision. Whilst I am at the farm the government will think that Sam does not have to be here, which means he will go back to sea, leaving Weathercock in my far from capable hands. Of course we all know that it will be you and Taid who make the decisions and take the responsibility, but that’s not how the War Office sees things. If I leave, then Sam will almost certainly be allowed to stay, and for the children’s sake I have decided that I must be the one who goes . . .’

At this point, Mo flung back her head and howled like a dog, tears streaming down her normally rosy cheeks. ‘I don’t want my daddy, I want Glenys!’ she wailed. ‘He went away and left us before, and he’ll do it again.’ She turned a tear-blubbered face towards her father. ‘Where’s she gone? She must be goin’ by train . . .’ She leaned across and grabbed her brother’s arm, causing him to spill porridge all down his clean school shirt. ‘Jimmy, we’ve got to go after her. If we beg and plead ever so hard, maybe she’ll come back.’

Sam pushed back his chair. ‘I’ll go to the station and see what I can do,’ he said resignedly. ‘Just let me finish my porridge and I’ll take a couple of rounds of toast with me. If the porter can tell me where the train she boarded was bound, then I suppose I could follow her . . .’ He jerked a thumb at Mo. ‘And don’t give me any more cheek, madam, or you’ll get a good hiding.’

‘She won’t come back for you, not if you were nasty to her,’ Mo said sullenly. She turned to her brother. ‘Make Daddy go now. Oh, I’d rather go meself!’

Nain stepped in at this point. ‘You’ve not heard the whole letter,’ she said reprovingly. ‘Glenys says she has found a clue to her mother’s whereabouts so she will no longer be alone in the world. Then she says: I wish you nothing but good and shall never forget your kindness to me. I’ll write regularly, and when this wretched war is over I’ll come back to see you.’