‘Speaking of family, have you heard anything of your son, Ethan? I still don’t know why he left us. He’d not been reprimanded or done anything wrong, to my knowledge.’ Harriet knew that Jethro must be worried, as indeed she was. After all, Ethan was only a few months older than Rosie, and she would have been worried sick if Rosie had upped and left without a ‘by your leave’.

‘No, not heard a thing. He’ll turn up, though; he never could be nailed down, always liked to trail somewhere. Mind you, Mazy is worried. I keep telling her he’ll be back in his own time. I’m just sorry that he’s caused you some worries up at Crummock. He should have been grateful that Master Archie gave him that job in the first place.’

‘Don’t you worry, Jethro. And keep me informed if Ethan does return home. I must go now. The train’s due, and I can see steam rising down the track.’ Harriet picked up her skirts and her bag and made her way to the platform’s edge to join the other passengers who were awaiting the seven-thirty to Leeds. She looked around her. They were mainly business people, mostly men dressed in their suits, waiting anxiously for the train to draw onto the platform and take them to their positions of importance. Women – especially those of her age and station – were expected to stay at home and take care of their families, leaving the man to be the breadwinner. Harriet felt very self-conscious while she waited her turn to board the train as it pulled into the station.

Once seated in a carriage with her fellow passengers, she looked out of the window and waited for the stationmaster and porter to clear the platform and blow the whistle. She watched as the steam from the engine blew down next to her window and wisps of white fluff drifted into the early-morning sky. She looked around her. A man in a bowler hat sat across from her, engrossed in his morning’s newspaper, while an older gentleman sat with his briefcase on his knee, guarding it with his life.