‘Ah, good man, that’s it, let’s get the kettle on,’ Jim says, rubbing his broad hands together. Muriel says nothing but issues a tight-lipped stare at Jack as she slams a trug of earth-encrusted new potatoes upon the table. ‘I’ve been showing Jack the farm. He’s going to stay on for a while, help us out over the summer.’

‘Really?’ Gwen leans forward. Jack is wary of looking her way. He is intensely aware of Muriel’s narrow-eyed inspection.

‘Well, I’ve been toying with the idea of applying to the Women’s Land Army now they’ve reinstated it, but to be honest, I’m feeling outnumbered as it is what with you and Muriel. I quite like the idea of Jack evening up the numbers. You know, Gwen, we’ve got more crops in than ever before. It’s been worrying me for some time that you and I are not going to manage this year’s harvest on our own. Bringing in the hay almost proved too much for us. Another pair of hands at this time of year wouldn’t go amiss.’

Muriel scowls as she rinses her hands under the tap.

‘Jim, you make the tea.’ She turns to Jack. ‘You can come and help me with your bedding,’ she says, her voice sharp, her manner cool as she folds the towel over the back of a chair and bustles from the kitchen. Jack mumbles his assent and follows, heartened by the encouraging smile Gwen throws his way.

Muriel leads him upstairs to the landing. Gwen’s bedroom door stands ajar and he cannot resist glancing in as he walks past, glimpsing the bottom of her bed and the jam jar of cow parsley on the windowsill.

Muriel yanks open the double doors of the laundry press and begins to search through the shelves of neatly ironed bedding, putting to one side items she deems suitable. She bends down to pull a rolled mattress cinched with two belts from underneath the bottom shelf. She thrusts it into Jack’s arms. It is light and insubstantial and he knows at once it will provide little comfort, but he wisely passes no comment. She follows it up with a feather pillow, which he manages to catch in his fingers while wrestling with the mattress.

‘I’ll bring the bedding,’ she says, drawing down the items she has set aside.

She pushes past him, making no attempt to hide her disapproval though Jack is at a loss to understand what he has done to deserve it.

As they descend the stairs, Jim and Gwen’s voices flow towards them with the comforting burble of a mountain stream. The conversation lulls as they enter the kitchen. Gwen begins to rise, offering to help, but Muriel tells her to sit down and chastises her for being foolish.