Nain nudged her granddaughter and pulled her away from the older woman. ‘Mrs Griffiths doesn’t mean half what she says,’ she whispered. ‘She’s soured because her daughter ran off with a seaman and was never heard of again. She was one of the blonde Griffiths, so I suspect the sight of you and Glenys upset her, made her think of Bethan.’

‘Not her,’ Mo said scornfully. ‘The only person she thinks about is herself. How dare she say Dad was shameless to marry again! She’s a spiteful old woman, as bad as Mrs Huxtable. No wonder her daughter ran away, like we did from Cyril and his horrible old mother. I wish we could find Bethan and tell her we don’t like her mother either. We could invite her to come and live at Weathercock Farm. What do you think, Aun – I mean Mam?’ She turned to appeal to Glenys, but Glenys had moved away and was talking to Taid. Nain, however, smiled and squeezed her hand.

‘It all happened a long time ago, cariad,’ she said consolingly. ‘The trouble was that Amelia was strong chapel and there were rumours . . . but never mind that! As you say Amelia’s just a spiteful old woman bent on upsetting folk.’ She smiled down into Mo’s flushed face. ‘Do you know, I believe the orchestra are about to play a barn dance. You wouldn’t want to miss that!’

‘Dancing!’ Mo said longingly. ‘Oh, and I’m still wearing my bridesmaid’s dress and I promised to take it off before I ate anything! But I was so excited that I only had a few sausage rolls, honest I did, and Dad wouldn’t let me taste the champagne – but I’d best go up to my room and put on the nice frock my new mam bought for me.’ She caught Nain’s hand. ‘Come with me, Nain. I need help to undo this dress, because it unbuttons down the back.’

But halfway back to the farmhouse Glenys caught them up, leading by the hand a weeping small neighbour who had spilt lemonade down her best frock and was saying, between wails, that her mum would scold her something rotten so she would.

‘No, she won’t,’ Glenys said comfortingly. ‘I’ll tell her it wasn’t your fault. You can’t help it if a boy carrying dirty glasses cannons into you.’ She looked appealingly at her stepdaughter. ‘Mo, poppet, I rather want a word with Nain. Would you be a darling and take Marian up to your room and just rinse the lemonade out?’

Mo was willing, so Glenys sent them on their way with a kiss and drew Nain to one side. ‘You know what you said about Amelia Griffiths’s daughter Bethan – that she’d run away with a seaman and never been seen again? I’ve just asked Taid when this all happened and he said . . . he said . . .’

Nain smiled at her; an understanding smile. ‘That woman is a terror,’ she said. ‘You don’t want to listen to anything she says. As for Bethan, all that is old history. Folk had it that the girl didn’t run away with a seaman, only from old Amelia, who never treated her right. Just you forget all about it, my dear. This is your day, and you mustn’t let someone else’s spite spoil it for you.’