‘No . . . thank you, but I’m quite capable of carrying them myself. And . . . well, thank you so much for all you’ve done for me over the last few months. I shall never forget it, or any of you.’

‘It’s been a pleasure and don’t be a stranger.’ Mrs Carter leant forward and gently kissed her cheek.

Worried that she’d break down if she delayed any longer, Amber turned abruptly and began to walk away. She looked back just once at the end of the road to see Mrs Carter and Biddy still standing on the step waving frantically and after lifting her hand she hurried on. It was time to go home and get on with her life.

*

‘Ah, here you are then, lass.’ When Amber stepped into the gloomy cottage her mother rushed forward and drew her to a chair before questioning tentatively, ‘It’s all over then?’

Amber lowered her head and nodded. ‘Yes, it was a girl. She was born three days ago.’

‘A girl!’ Tears pricked at Alice’s eyes as she thought of the granddaughter she would never meet, but forcing a smile to her face she said cheerily, ‘Right miss, well you’re goin’ to rest fer the next few days an’ don’t try an’ argue – I insist. An’ then we’ll go from there, eh?’

Later that evening a tap on the door woke Amber from a doze and when Alice went to answer it she found Bertie Preston standing on the step.

‘Me mam said she saw Amber earlier on, Mrs Ainsley. Is she back from her uncle’s?’

‘Er . . . yes, she is.’

Without waiting to be invited, he pushed past her to see Amber sitting in the chair trying to straighten her hair.

‘So yer back then.’

Amber raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. ‘Daft question, eh? But why didn’t yer let me know yer were comin’ back?’

Amber frowned. ‘I didn’t know I had to,’ she said tartly and had the satisfaction of seeing two spots of angry colour flame in his cheeks.

He took a deep breath and stepping towards her asked, ‘So, do yer fancy comin’ fer a walk? It’s time you an’ me got on the same page – about where we stand, I mean,’ he ended when he saw her puzzled look.

‘The same page?’ She stared at him blankly. ‘But we’re mates, Bertie, we’ve always been mates.’

He shook his head and shot an uncomfortable glance at Alice. ‘I reckon we’re a lot more than that, lass,’ he told her. ‘Leastways, you’re much more than a mate to me. I allus thought that once we were old enough, we’d . . . you know? Get wed.’

Amber’s eyes stretched wide. ‘I don’t know what gave you that idea,’ she gasped. ‘I certainly didn’t. I’m not thinking of marrying anyone for some long time – if ever!’