Then one of the Oswald daughters, Dora, began courting a man from Hedon and he had a different way of doing things; he began looking after the books, and although Harry was relieved to relinquish what he thought of as a chore he was also rather suspicious of the man’s motives, especially when he and Dora announced their wedding date, in what in Harry’s opinion was undue haste.

Another twelve months went by and Dora’s new husband, Andrew Charlesworth, gave up his work as an accountant’s clerk and took over the running of the farm for Mrs Oswald and her daughters. He gave the foreman, Aaron Jackson, his notice to quit, and told Harry that in future he would be answerable to him.

‘Know about farming matters, do you, Mr Charlesworth?’ Harry asked him. ‘About growing grain and fattening up bullocks?’

‘I’ve read up about it,’ he countered, ‘I know how to read,’ and looked at Harry as if implying that he didn’t. ‘I’ve also read that American wheat is far superior to English and that it’s hardly worth our while growing it. I’m going to rethink our options.’

‘We don’t grow a lot of wheat,’ Harry told him. ‘Though we’ve got good land for arable crops, barley, rape, oats and rye, and root crops o’ course; and Mr Oswald allus did well wi’ cattle and pigs. We’ve allus been a mixed farm, a safer option if one crop fails. But we can’t leave that amount of acreage fallow, so what would we grow in its place? More barley mebbe?’

‘That’s up to me to decide, not you,’ Charlesworth answered sharply. ‘We’ve no sheep, so I might diversify.’

‘Sheep!’ Harry looked askance. ‘But our land here isn’t suitable for sheep rearing. Up on ’Wolds with all their grassland, that’s sheep country. Dairy, mebbe; I’ve often thought we could sell more milk to Hull dairies for mekkin’ cheese.’

It wasn’t like Harry to argue, but as he said to Ellen later, he couldn’t bear to think that Ozzie’s farm, which had been in his family for generations, could be swept away by sheer ignorance and arrogance.

‘But surely Mrs Oswald should have some idea?’ Ellen protested. ‘She’s been a farmer’s wife; she would know about such things. I do, and I was onny a farm labourer’s daughter.’

‘She’s not a countrywoman; Ozzie told me that some years ago,’ Harry said. ‘He said he was attracted by her pretty ankles!’

Ellen rolled her eyes. ‘Men!’ she exclaimed. ‘I thought it was because of their cooking – or the colour of their hair,’ she added mischievously.

Harry grabbed her round the waist and nuzzled into her neck until she shrieked for him to put her down and told him that she was expecting again. ‘So you’d better treat me carefully.’