‘Well, this fool, as it turns out we are all three agreed upon, did not inform me as to his plot either, but simply instructed I bring these,’ she said. A look passed between them that I did not understand, though I felt Daniel had been reprimanded. ‘Your mam is able, I know, but I have time. What do you think to us going to my house and trying them out? Then if they don’t fit I can find others.’

So here I am in Bett’s tidy little house, watching her unwrap her neckerchief, remove her hat and hang both on a nail in the back of the door. Order, where I’m used to chaos. Her hair is light, unruly curls bursting free from her coif.

‘Right,’ she says, wiping her hands down her apron. She turns to the fire, throws on two logs from the neat pile in the corner and rattles at the grate with the poker. I stand, awkward without a task. She looks at me over her shoulder and waves her hand at the table.

‘Sit,’ she says, and I do.

‘Did you not think to leave the farmhouse when you married?’ I ask.

She snorts. ‘How could I? No other would keep order over that shambles as I do.’ Her tone softens. ‘And besides, ’tis like family, in its way. I’ll stay, until I have my own.’ She glances heavenward and quickly presses her hands together. ‘God willing, I pray.’

The sea beats against the beach, wind shaking the front door on its hinges. We lived in one of these cottages once, and I remember more strongly than ever the sight of my father’s salt-stained boots, warped into the shape of his feet, drying by the door; the smell of sea and leather and fish he carried with him.

‘My father was a fisherman,’ I say. I don’t know why.

Bett sits at the table, opposite me. ‘Oh?’

‘Once. We lived down here.’

She nods.

‘It was a long time ago.’ I don’t know why I started this conversation, don’t know what I expect of this stranger. Unperturbed, she begins to sort through the bundle of clothes she placed on the table, shaking out and holding up a petticoat, looking from it to me with her eyes narrowed.

She sniffs. ‘You’re a spindly one. This is the smallest I could find, we should be able to tie it tight enough.’

She stands up, lights a rush, holds it and the bundle out to me. I don’t know what I’m expected to do.

‘Well, go on then,’ she says, flapping a hand towards the door to the other room. ‘Try them on, come back and I’ll help you with the coif.’

I take the clothes from her. ‘Thank you. Aye, I will. All right.’