‘Pop that over to the pigs would yer?’

Amber frowned. ‘But I was just about to give Charlotte some milk. Couldn’t one of the men do it?’

‘They’ve been graftin’ all day,’ Mrs Barstow remarked, as if Amber hadn’t. ‘An’ I’ll give the little ’un her milk. Pass it over ’ere!’

Reluctantly Amber handed it over and once she had placed Charlotte on the old woman’s lap, she lifted the bucket and set off across the yard to the pigsties where she quickly emptied the food into the long metal trough. Instantly the enormous pigs came snuffling towards it and she leant on the wall surrounding the sty, watching them with a smile. She couldn’t deny that the animals were cared for and that was something at least.

It was a beautiful evening and she suddenly wished that she could go for a walk to Whitby Abbey and watch the sea from the clifftop. But that was out of the question. The fewer people who knew where she was the better so it was for the best if she didn’t venture far from the farm. She had written to her mother to tell her where she was and had received a letter in reply in which her mother urged her to take Charlotte to Scarborough where she and the baby would be welcome, but Amber didn’t want to do that. Her uncle and Mrs Carter would be getting married very soon and they had already been kind enough to offer her mother a home when she was widowed so Amber didn’t want to be a further burden on them, as tempting as the offer was. But overriding this, she was far more afraid that her uncle’s would be one of the first places Barnaby might go to look for her and she shuddered at the thought of losing Charlotte again.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear someone come up behind her until an arm snaked about her waist. She started and pulled away. She knew who it was before she even turned around by the smell of him: it was Melvin and his expression was ugly.

‘So I were right about you.’ He grinned nastily. ‘Accordin’ to me mam, yer the subject o’ much gossip down in the town an’ if what they’re sayin’ is true your nowt but a filthy liar!’ He gestured towards the wedding ring on her hand.

‘What do you mean?’ Amber stepped away from him with her hands on her hips but her heart was thumping so loudly she feared it was going to jump out of her chest.

‘Well, it appears you ain’t been entirely honest wi’ us, ’ave yer?’ He plucked a piece of straw and began to chew on it as he leant lazily against the wall, obviously enjoying her discomfort.