The plot was about fifty feet by twenty-five, and I had no idea how much food could be grown in such an area. It seemed to me that a garden should be bigger, but tackling more was a tiring thought. I would have money for extras if it fell short, and meanwhile I would learn.

I drew plans for the garden: tomatoes, lettuce, green peppers, squash, beans, onions, broccoli and brussels sprouts, and half a row of cabbage, laid it all out in rows on paper and felt that I had made large steps already. I wondered what time it was, felt for the first time the frustration of not knowing, thought perhaps I had been foolish, tried to go too far.

(Despite that, I wonder now at how swiftly I changed. It seems odd to me, unlikely, that I did not think at all that day, “Well, the children must be at school now, and Stephen at work. I wonder who got breakfast and what they had? I wonder how they miss me?” None of that. How could that have been?)

The men arrived to deliver the freezer, teetering in their truck up the lane. I saw them and was startled by the intrusion, remembered then who they must be, but remained resentful.

“You planning on being here all summer?” asked the one who was broad and dark-haired as they put the freezer down in the kitchen.

“I plan,” I said firmly, “on being here permanently.” There was an irritation in me, a new wish not to be bothered — and a new knowledge that I didn’t have to be. I suppose it was normal for them to be curious, or perhaps it was only polite conversation, and I should have understood.

“Got a family then?” the man asked.

What I told him was not, to me, a lie. “No, I’ll be here on my own.”

“You’re going to try and manage here all by yourself?” He was startled. “What’re you going to try to do with the place? D’you have any idea what it’s like here in winter?”

“Not yet I don’t, but I will.” His doubt made me stubborn and more sure. “I don’t plan to do anything with it but grow a garden to feed myself. I just plan to live here, that’s all.”

He looked at me intently. “You’re from the city, aren’t you.” It was an accusation. “You don’t know what you’re getting in for. What kind of a damn fool idea is that, anyway, a woman on her own coming out here to live in the middle of nowhere? It’s lonely out here, even for people with families.” He shook his head. “You’ll never make it.”