Muriel doesn’t stay long after dinner, instead she cycles home as soon as the clearing up is done. Ted shows no signs of following suit so Gwen has little choice but to invite him through to the sitting room. She turns on the wireless ready for the evening news while Ted goes down on one knee to feed another log into the fire. Nora persuades her to break out the sherry and she pours them each a small glass. When she finally sits down, Tom crawls onto her lap and rests his head against her chest. She can see him fighting the urge to suck his thumb, but he eventually succumbs.

Nora jiggles her knee restlessly as she gulps down her drink. Gwen can see she is distracted, impatient … bored … and so is not surprised when the Land Girl leaps to her feet.

‘Do you know what, I might pop down to the Hare and Hounds, see who’s about. Anyone fancy joining me?’

‘You’re not going out this time of night, surely?’ Ted says, throwing a glance at Gwen but she fails to acknowledge it. She has long been used to Nora’s impetuous ways. She stopped trying to rein the girl in years ago – let her reap what she sows, she thinks. Instead she gently eases Tom to his feet.

‘Come on, Tom. Time for bed, I think.’

‘Right, well I’ll just get ready then,’ Nora declares. They listen to her bound up the stairs. Her bedroom door creaks and slams.

‘Say goodnight, Tom,’ Gwen prompts as the tired boy drags his feet towards the door.

He murmurs sleepily over his shoulder. Gwen ushers him into the hall. She hesitates, expecting Ted to take the opportunity to excuse himself for the evening, but instead he reaches over to pick up the newspaper from the floor besides Nora’s vacated chair. He shakes it open and begins to read. Uncertain what to say, Gwen follows her son.

She takes her time putting Tom to bed. She lifts into place the blackout blind which – though no longer needed – effectively blocks the invasive light of the lengthening evenings, helping Tom to sleep. She does not chivvy him while he changes into his pyjamas. She neatly folds each piece of discarded clothing and puts it away. She reads him a story, and when he asks she reads him another, though on other nights she would adopt a strict tone and say ‘No more, sleep now’ before turning down the dial on his paraffin lamp. She hears the clack of Nora’s door latch and her unguarded steps on the landing just before she peers into Tom’s room to mouth goodnight, fresh lipstick gleaming on her lips.