‘It’s only a temporary position,’ Alice told him so quietly that he had to strain to hear her. ‘She’ll be back soon as New Year is over.’

‘Oh aye, an’ then what’s she gonna do? Will she go to work back at Greenacres?’ He was aware that a lot of responsibility would fall to him and William now with three wage earners gone. He and Edward would have to send some of their wages back each week to their mother, otherwise how was she to live and pay her rent? Still, there would be time for talking about practical issues when they’d had time to come to terms with what had happened, but soon, unfortunately, they would have to return to their jobs.

*

Many of the people in the town were grieving and those who had lost loved ones knew that Christmas would never be the same for them – it would always mark the loss of their nearest and dearest. However, they got on with life as best they could and three days later a poster in the town hall informed everyone that there was to be a memorial service for the deceased. There could be no burials, they had all already gone to a watery grave, so this was the best they could do for them.

The service was to take place in St Mary’s Church on the East Cliff and it was a sombre crowd that climbed the one hundred and ninety-nine steps that stood adjacent to the Donkey Road that trailed up to the abbey and the church.

Alice and her sons wore their darkest clothes – they couldn’t afford to buy black especially for the occasion. Alice still hadn’t shed a tear, nor had a drop of food or drink touched her lips since the night they had learnt the terrible news. Now she was weak and the boys each took an arm and helped her to climb the steep steps.

The church was crowded and, as Alice looked down the aisle, she saw Barnaby Greenwood sitting with his head bent in his family’s pew at the front. Next to his was the pew that belonged to the Lord of the Manor, Nathaniel Cholmley, and Alice felt a wave of resentment. Many of the young bereaved wives with small children had already been forced to leave their cottages and take themselves and the children off to the workhouse, but Barnaby Greenwood would never have to worry about facing such a fate, would he? she thought bitterly.

‘Amber should be here,’ William said brokenly, interrupting her thoughts.

Alice shook her head. ‘There’s no post over Christmas so there was no way o’ lettin’ her know,’ she told him in a hushed voice. ‘An’ anyway, there’s no point in upsettin’ her afore we have to. There’s nothin’ she could do.’