Overlooking the yard was the old farmhouse where Grace had grown up. The whitewashed walls had faded to grey with age, and the thatched roof hung low over the small mullioned windows, thick and untidy.

Grace went to climb down from the cart but Noah was there before her, putting out a callused hand to help her.

The door to the cow barn flew open and her father appeared, tall and burly with a shock of grey hair and beard that seemed to encircle his whole face so only a stubby nose and a pair of bright hazel eyes peeped out.

He gave Grace a curt nod, then said to Noah, ‘You’ve found her, then?’

‘We met on the lane.’

The next moment the two dogs ran out to greet her, Patch bounding ahead, followed more sedately by his arthritic mother Jory. Then Grace’s brothers and sisters came running around the corner, clamouring to know what was in her bags.

‘Have you brought presents? Are they for us?’

‘Give your sister room to breathe, for pity’s sake!’ Ezekiel Duffield swiped left and right with his arm, scattering them. ‘Go and see your mother,’ he said to Grace. ‘I daresay she’ll have work for you to do.’

Then he and Noah went off together, shambling past the cow barn towards the fields beyond.

Inside the farmhouse it was bedlam, as usual, with pans bubbling on the stove, clothes horses draped with washing steaming gently in front of the fire, and several small children waddling around. There seemed to be several more than the last time Grace had visited, but she wasn’t surprised. If her mother wasn’t pregnant, then one or other of her sisters-in-law usually was.

Her mother swept a crawling baby off the stone-flagged floor and dumped him in Grace’s arms.

‘Here, make yourself useful and change him,’ she said. ‘He stinks to high heaven.’

Grace looked at her two sisters-in-law, Jessie and Beth. For the moment they seemed to be at peace, standing beside each other, peeling and chopping vegetables. They gave her a sly look over their shoulders, then Jessie whispered something to Beth and they both laughed.

As her mother handed the baby over, Grace noticed the tell-tale bulge under her loose dress.

‘You’re expecting again?’ she said. ‘You didn’t tell me.’

Her mother shrugged. ‘It hardly seemed worth mentioning after so many.’

Grace settled down to change the baby’s nappy beside the fire. It had barely been ten minutes since she had arrived, and she had fitted so seamlessly back into the chaos of Duffield family life, she felt as if she had never been away.

Or so she thought.

‘You talk funny now, Grace,’ Jessie threw over her shoulder accusingly. ‘Don’t you reckon, Beth? She sounds like a Londoner now.’

‘I don’t!’

‘I don’t!’ Jessie mimicked.

Grace glared at her. Growing up with nothing but older brothers, there was a time when she had longed for them to marry so she would have a friend. But Jessie and Beth were like a pair of angry cats.