After a few moments of staring into space she glanced round her. The kitchen was as clean as a new pin and the blackleaded range was shining, the coal in the open fireplace glowing a deep red and this, combined with the flickering light from the oil lamp in the middle of the table which she had lit first thing, lent a cosy comfort to the surroundings. For the hundredth time since she had married Adam, she told herself she could be happy if only things were different between them. She didn’t mind that they had to watch every penny and rob Peter to pay Paul every week, or that life was a daily struggle to make ends meet; wasn’t it the same for everyone? Adam was earning less than when they’d first wed and working longer hours for it, and everyone knew that when the government stopped paying the coal owners the subsidy at the end of April, the unions and the coal owners would go head to head. Life was uncertain now but it would get ten times worse then. The owners and the Tories were determined to have a contest of strength with the miners and destroy the unions once and for all; the men had talked of nothing else at the get-together last night, and Adam’s mam and his brothers’ wives had confessed they were worried about what the year would bring.

Olive rose to her feet and made another pot of tea, and once it was mashed she poured herself a cup. She and Adam drank it black now; his wage didn’t run to them having milk and sugar although she made sure Alice had her milk each day.

The sky was lightening outside the window but it was low and heavy, threatening more snow. For once, Olive let her mind wander, probably because she was tired after the late night and not least bruised and sore after Adam’s rough handling of her.

It was nearly four years since she had last seen Ruby. There had been times, in the dead of night when the rest of the world was asleep, when she had imagined herself going to Newcastle and searching and searching until she found her sister. After begging Ruby to forgive her a reconciliation would follow, and then Ruby would accompany her home to see their parents. Their mam and da missed her, and since their da had become bedridden twelve months ago she knew he brooded more about things. But then, in the cold light of day, she accepted it was an impossible undertaking. Ruby wrote to their mam every two or three months to say she was well and doing all right but never gave any hint of where she was living or working; it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. And how would Adam react if he saw Ruby again? Things were bad enough as it was.