She looked well, Sarah thought. Pregnancy suited her. Her skin was almost luminous, and her golden hair gleamed in the sunlight. She wore a loose shirt over baggy jeans that hid the slight expansion of her waist. Sarah realised with a shock that the shirt was one of Piet’s. Hannah saw her glance.

‘I didn’t have any maternity clothes,’ she said with a shrug. ‘And most of my normal clothes are an inch or two too tight now. I thought we might look in Patel’s duka after this, and see if there’s anything I can buy in bigger sizes. So what do you think, heh?’ She patted her stomach, laughing. ‘Soon I’ll start to bulge, and I won’t be able to hide it any more. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters as long as the baby is OK.’

She was talking fast, seemingly happy and confident, but Sarah realised that she was nervous. She was meeting neighbours and friends who would soon know that she was pregnant. It would be hard to deal with the inevitable gossip. The door to Dr Markham’s consulting room opened and he beckoned Hannah inside. Lars came back from the bank and the petrol station, and sat down with Sarah to wait.

‘He says I’m disgustingly healthy,’ Hannah announced. ‘I have to come back in a month. Let’s go to the duka.’

Mr Patel’s shop was piled with general stock, and smelled of burlap sacking and dried meat and paraffin. In one corner, behind the wooden counter, were Cellophane-wrapped packages of garments stacked in piles. Sarah and Hannah examined the possibilities without enthusiasm. Lars was ordering supplies for the farm at the other end of the shop, avoiding any involvement in Hannah’s purchases. With suppressed giggles they selected two voluminous blouses, and Hannah chose material to make additional clothes. As they took their parcels and headed for the door, Hannah swore under her breath.

‘Bloody hell! I did not want to run into her, of all people.’ She dived towards the back of the shop as a large woman came in, but it was too late. Hettie Kruger was bearing down on them, her small eyes observant and full of malice.

‘Hannah, my dear. How nice to see you out and about. You look very well, considering.’

‘Considering what, Hettie?’ Hannah’s chin went up.

The large woman gave her a condescending smile. ‘Considering all your troubles, my dear. I heard your mother had left. That must be hard for you, all alone in your condition. It’s good that we have Dr Markham still here with us, but you’d think Lottie would have wanted to stay and help. But then, with things as they are . . .’

Lars had loomed up, out of the depths of the shop. He came to stand beside Hannah, putting his arm around her shoulders and fixing Mrs Kruger with a cool stare.