I unwrap it and find a bracelet from the woman’s stall, the stones small and glossy, all colours from so pale as to be almost translucent to the darkness of Bonny’s shining coat. So pretty. I am torn between knowing what the selling of it would buy for my family, and wanting just one thing for myself. The stones are hard and cool against my skin as he rolls it on to my wrist and I expect it to feel unnatural, but it rests there comfortably, as though I was born to wear such things.

‘For our new life,’ he says.

‘Thank you.’

I cradle the gifts in my hand, the smooth pendants, the hard leather case. Bonny stamps and the cart rocks. Daniel waits. Tonight I will not fall asleep to the sound of Annie’s steady breathing, tomorrow will not wake to hear Mam rattling the embers. Will not keep check of John’s wanderings.

Daniel places his hand over mine. ‘You wish you were going home? There’s still time,’ he says gently. ‘You can change your mind. I’ll tell Father I could find no one suitable. He will be glad to save the money.’

I look to the hare, see if he’ll give me an answer. He remains a piece of wood. ‘When will I see them?’

‘Sundays. After milking.’

Today is Tuesday. I cannot imagine the sun rising on Annie four times without me there to search her skin, though Mam has promised to do it in my place.

‘But I will find a way for you to go more often,’ he says.

‘All right,’ I say.

‘Yes? You want to come?’

‘Aye.’ I blink away tears. I will be a milkmaid. Live on the farm, with Daniel and his father, earn my wage and bring it to my family. See them only on Sundays.

Daniel leans in, so close that I smell the straw scent of his skin. His lips, when they reach me, are warm and soft. There’s nothing in the world but this.

He breaks off but remains close, head dipped against mine, breath on my cheek.

‘Go then, why do you tarry?’ I say. ‘It’s turning cold.’

Wavering Light

Bett came to greet them, dressed in her hat and neckerchief, ready for home.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘You look born to those clothes now.’

‘No more waddling,’ Sarah said.

Bett’s eyes flickered with amusement. Daniel walked around to lift Sarah to the ground but she had already jumped.

Bett stepped closer, glanced at him and then Sarah. ‘I put another petticoat on your bed. Spare is good to have.’

‘Thank you,’ Sarah said. ‘When I can I’ll—’

Bett shook her head, scowling a little. ‘No. It’s a welcome gift. Nowt special. Do the same for any new milkmaid.’