Her lips part, but she seems to think better of whatever she is going to say and instead they wither into bitter twists as she hurries past him, breaking into a sprint that Jack suspects is spurred by anger or tears – or both. He turns to watch her go. Jim delves into his pocket for his Woodbines and taps one free.

‘That lad keeps trying it on, Jack, but I won’t have it, I tell you. Nothing good would come of it, I know that damn well. Only heartbreak lies that way for my Gwen.’ He rests his cigarette between his lips and talks around it. ‘I’m looking out for her, that’s all. Protecting her from the truth.’

But Jack is beginning to suspect Gwen is taking the same course of action with her father.

‘She’d never be good enough for the likes of him,’ Jim mutters.

Returning the packet to his pocket, he leaves the cigarette unlit as he walks back up the yard. Jack gives him a head start. Jim, he thinks, has it all wrong. There is no doubt that Gwen is good enough for Gordon Allingham. The doubt in Jack’s mind is whether Gordon Allingham is good enough for Gwen.

It is left to Jack and Gwen to prepare for the dipping. Jim, mindful of Gwen’s tight mouth and red-ringed eyes, absents himself to bring in the sheep.

Gwen is sullen as they fill the concrete tub in the back field with water and, when the task is complete, she strides off towards the barn without a word, leaving Jack to hurry after her. Tucked in a murky corner, amongst hessian sacks of seed and feed, is a bag of powder detergent. They both reach for it at the same time.

‘I can manage.’

‘I don’t doubt it.’

Recognising her fight is with her father alone, Gwen relents with a peevish sigh and steps away. Jack grips the top corners of the sack but makes no move to lift it.

‘You’re already seeing him, aren’t you? That lad.’

‘It’s hardly any of your business.’

‘No, lass, it certainly isn’t,’ he admits quietly. Still he does not lift the sack.

‘You won’t say anything, will you? To Dad, I mean?’ she says at last.

His breath escapes through his teeth. ‘Like I say, lass, it isn’t my business to get involved.’

‘He’s done nothing wrong, Jack – nothing to earn Dad’s contempt.’

‘Jim’s just trying to protect you.’

‘From what? Life?’ Her hands lift in frustration. ‘I’m old enough to make my own decisions and, if necessary, my own mistakes. But it’s not a mistake. Dad can’t believe that someone like Gordon could ever truly want someone like me. But he does. It’s not Gordon who cares about the differences between us – it’s my own father. That’s the irony. He should be happy for me.’