‘But there’ll be enough of my milk for you, little one,’ she murmured. Already her breasts were tender with ready ripeness for the birth of her child. ‘I’ll see you never go short – not of anything – if I can help it,’ she promised softly.

She left the milk in the dairy. She would have to ask Mrs Harris if one of her girls, maybe Enid, would come and do the dairy work for a few days. And of course Mrs Harris herself would attend her at the birth. She went out again into the yard. The September day, which already had the hint of autumn gentleness about it, was warm and sultry.

‘Huh,’ Esther said aloud. ‘Never anyone here when ya wants ’em.’ The yard was silent save for the occasional stamping of a hoof from the cowshed. Esther gave a click of exasperation at herself. She had quite forgotten that she had not yet turned the cows back out into the field after the morning milking. As she opened the byre door, she was forced to lean against the wall as another pain, beginning low down, gripped her in its vice-like severity. As the wave passed she loosed the cows from the cowshed and drove them across the yard and into the lane where they idled along the verges, tearing at the grass and beginning the whole process of milk production once more.

Again Esther looked about her and chewed at her bottom lip with uncertainty. She did not want to have to go to the Point herself. Ma Harris’s cottage was overlooked by the Elands’ boat and the last person Esther wanted to meet at this moment was Beth Eland.

She was still hesitating, debating whether to go into the house and upstairs and prepare the bed for herself, trusting to luck that Matthew would come home before . . .

Another pain clenched her abdomen, more strongly than ever and she could not prevent a low grunt escaping her startled lips. The pain was so swift and intense, like nothing she had ever before experienced. She found herself doubling over and squatting down on to the verge panting until the pain began to ebb away. Sweat trickled down between her breasts and for a moment she closed her eyes as the heat of the day danced and swam before her eyes.

In the distance she heard a shrill whistle and the faint rattle of cart wheels coming closer and blissfully closer. Esther licked her dry lips and made as if to pull herself upright, but another pain was already beginning, swelling and pulsating, so that she gasped again and toppled forwards on to her knees.

Will Benson’s cart appeared round the bend in the lane and drew to a halt. She heard, rather than saw, for her eyes were still squeezed tightly shut against the pain, Will scrambling down from his seat and running with uneven footsteps towards her.