‘Am I?’

‘Yes, that’s what people say.’

‘Do they really?’

‘Don’t sound so delighted. It isn’t meant as a compliment.’

Yet she took it as one.

Without having to ask, Vivian felt sure Enid would not be welcome. She was alone again. She thought she might send a telegram to Ava and invite her to visit. She could do with the support. Ava would intimidate her in-laws magnificently; she overawed everyone.

For all the visit had not been a success, or perhaps because it had not been, Vivian felt profoundly sad when Aubrey packed up his kitbag once again to head to the station. She offered to ride in the car with him, but he said it was unnecessary.

As he stooped to get in the back of the car, he paused, straightened. ‘Just one thing before I go, Vivian.’

‘Anything.’ She beamed, able to be generous towards him now that he was leaving. Only a matter of minutes left.

‘Your job is to make him go. Do you understand that?’ She realised at once he meant Howard Henderson. ‘We can find women to bring in the hay. He ought to be over there, with all us other men.’

‘I know.’

‘I’m sure you’ll be able to persuade him.’

Vivian let her glance slide towards the handle of the car door; it had been polished for Aubrey’s journey. What did he mean by that? Too much? Nothing at all. ‘Did you talk to him while you were here?’ she asked.

‘No, why would I want to do such a thing?’

‘He’s not a bad man. Quite honourable in his own way.’ She couldn’t help but defend him.

‘I try not to think of him as a villain, but he’s certainly misguided and intractable.’

‘There are many ways a man can stay out of the war. Those writers and artists in Sussex play at being gardeners and call it essential work. Mr Henderson works with extreme diligence.’ Aubrey looked impatient. She’d be wise to say nothing more. Yet, ‘I’ve heard of men who took jobs in factories and in shipyards the week before the military came to town asking for conscripts, but the objectors took a hard route. The most visible route.’

‘I know that, Vivian. More shame on them. I just wonder whether it’s suitable, having him here.’

‘I need help with the farm.’

‘Yes, but the appetite for conscription is becoming ever more voracious.’ He squinted into the middle distance, no doubt weighing up how much military knowledge he should or could burden her with. His voice was low, his lips close to her ear so that the servants and his parents, who were seeing him off, couldn’t hear. ‘These battles we’ve fought recently mean it’s a necessity. They’re not giving us a running tally, but my friends in government suggest it’s tens of thousands.’ He looked grave. He waited for a moment to see if she fully understood. She did.

‘Tens of thousands?’ Such a number.

‘Maybe hundreds of thousands.’