Being an only child, and with no friends of her own and she was keen for him not to shoot off before she’d had a chance to talk to him properly. ‘What’s your name?’

He shook his head, then considered her question. ‘Why do you want to know? So that you can run off and tattle-tale to your dad?’

Olivia’s cheeks flushed hotly. She knew people talked badly about her father and could fully understand why; the last thing she would do was tell tales on someone for speaking the truth. She drew the sign of the cross over her left breast. ‘I promise I won’t say a word.’

He regarded her sceptically. ‘Why wouldn’t you tell your father what I’d been saying?’

Olivia eyed him darkly. ‘Because it’s not just his employees who he’s mean to.’

His brow shot towards his hairline. ‘You mean …’

Olivia nodded. ‘Do you want to come in? Only people might think you’re a bit strange if they see you talking to a hedge.’

For the first time since they’d met, the boy grinned. He pushed his sandy hair back from his eyes and winked at her. ‘Oh, I dunno, I’ve been talkin’ to myself most of the way here.’

Olivia giggled. ‘I did hear.’

Stepping back, he glanced the length of the hedge. ‘How do I get in?’

Olivia’s tummy gave an excited jolt as she pressed closer towards the gap in the hedge and pulled at some of the branches which had grown across the old gateway.

‘Thanks!’ said the boy as he passed through. He held out a hand. ‘My name’s Edward Hewitt – my pals call me Ted.’

She shook his hand. ‘Hello, Ted, I’m Olivia.’ She gazed into his ice-blue eyes which looked back at her with warm intrigue.

‘Olivia’s a bit of a mouthful. What do your pals call you?’

She looked down at her tan Josie Jane shoes in embarrassment. ‘I don’t really have any friends.’

He glanced in the direction of the large house. ‘If your father treats your school pals the same as his workers, then I can’t say I’m surprised.’

Olivia followed his gaze. ‘I daresay it’d be like that if he allowed me to go to school, but I have a private tutor – Mrs Bellingham. She’s not a bad old stick, but it’s not the same as being with people your own age. There again, that’s the whole reason why he doesn’t want me to go to school, because he doesn’t want me mixing with the local children – he thinks they’re beneath us.’ Her eyes flicked up to meet his. ‘Sorry.’

‘Doesn’t bother me none,’ laughed Ted, ‘’cos I’m not local.’