She shivered, although not from the cold; her coat was thick and warm and kept her like toast. It was beautiful, a deep rich gold. Mrs Walton had presented it to her as her Christmas present and she had been beside herself with delight at the time and overcome by the elderly lady’s generosity. Her old coat had been worn and the sleeves too short, but she had been saving every penny for her forthcoming marriage and had been quite content to make do. She had floated home that night on cloud nine; now it seemed in another lifetime, a time in which she had actually been happy. How could she have taken her happiness for granted? But she had. Everything in the garden had been rosy and her future mapped out before her – she and Adam were both in work, unlike some, and he had been quite agreeable to her continuing with Mrs Walton, knowing how much she loved it there and how kind her employer was. Lots of men would have insisted their wives give up any outside work the minute they got wed, but Adam had said she could stay at her job until the first bairn came along.

This thought caused a shaft of pain so intense she gasped. She would never have Adam’s babies now. How many times had she imagined how their bairns would look? In her mind’s eye they’d been so real – gurgling, rosy-cheeked infants with Adam’s brown curls and blue eyes, and maybe just one little lass with her brown eyes. But it was Olive who would bear his first child. Her sister had set out to hurt her on New Year’s Eve and her plan had worked better than perhaps even Olive had imagined.

She wrapped her arms round her waist, swaying slightly as though it could ease the agony.

Why had Olive done what she had? True, they had never been close. From a toddler, she’d learned to avoid being alone with her big sister unless she wanted a sly pinch or a slap, but this? This was something so huge, so fundamental, that she was forced to face the knowledge that she had always tried to bury. Olive didn’t like her, in fact she must hate her. In the past she’d tried to convince herself that lots of siblings didn’t get on, but it didn’t mean the love wasn’t there, deep down. Sisters and brothers argued and fought but when push came to shove, they were there for each other. Blood was thicker than water. She had believed that and she would certainly have been there for Olive.