‘There you are, Jack, food for thought. We shall all pool our ideas.’ Luke raised his replenished glass. ‘To another year’s casting out of the spirit of Tobias James, and the future of Porthcarne.’

While Luke joined the squash watching the wrestling matches, Cordelia joined Little Min in her usual place nearby.

Alicia, somewhat bemused by the day’s events stayed put, a little more comfortable on a makeshift cushion of materials bought off a trader. Jack stayed and held the parasol over her.

‘Seem a nice couple,’ Little Min deliberated.

‘The Rosevears are devoted to each other,’ Cordelia agreed.

She envied Jack and Alicia, chatting so naturally together, looking forward to the birth of their baby; although, and she couldn’t work out what exactly, sometimes there was something strange about Mrs Jack. She seemed to cut herself off from everyone with a severe determination, even Jack. She would hug her swollen middle and look tragic. Perhaps she was sad she had no family to present her child to. Luke had erected a small Cornish cross in the churchyard and she often laid flowers at its foot, making it clear she wanted no company as she stood and remembered whoever it was she had lost.

‘Good morning, Miss Drannock. Mrs Drew.’

‘Good morning, Mr Kinver.’

‘Enjoying yourself, boy?’ Little Min chuckled. ‘Made ’nough noise this morning, old Jamesie’ll be too ’fraid to show hisself round here for a whole cent’ry!’

‘I think Mr Pengarron’s presence gave us encouragement. It was very good of him, what he did for the children.’

‘What did he do?’ Cordelia looked from his fine dark face to old Minnie’s tiny wrinkled face.

‘Young master gived each of the childer a shilling piece!’ Little Min slapped her knee, making her tiny dog shuffle awake and yawn widely. ‘Never seen such happy liddle faces. Never had sumthin’ to spend on themselves on James’s Day afore.’

‘Mr Pengarron is very kind.’ Cordelia was a little astonished. Now that Luke had a dream and the reality of his own responsibilities, he had become exceedingly generous towards the sort of people who, before, he would have viewed as nuisances, creatures to be taken for granted to wait on him, or at the best, poor unfortunates. Luke had more than a dream, he had those wonderful feelings of being needed and belonging. If only he needed her in the same way she yearned to belong to him.

‘He’s some polite,’ Little Min said, when Morgan had excused himself to watch Hal wrestle. ‘I reckon he listened carefully to his father and learnt a thing or two.’

A group of ragged children crept towards Cordelia, plainly hoping she had brought her basket with her. Her study of them revealed two girls who bore the Kinver black hair and soft grey eyes. Had either or both just seen their father leave?