‘I mean that racket outside. It’s enough to upset anyone.’ Esther shuddered. ‘I pity anyone who’s got to be out in this lot when it gets dark.’

They had eaten their midday meal and Esther was scuttling backwards and forwards between the kitchen and the draughty scullery with the pots, whilst the wind battered at the back door and blew in underneath it, when they heard a loud knocking.

Esther turned wide eyes on Matthew. ‘What . . . ? Who . . . ?’

‘How should I know, woman? Go an’ answer it.’

The wind snatched the door out of Esther’s hand as she unsnecked it, and almost lifted their visitor bodily and blew him into the house.

‘Ernie!’ Esther exclaimed. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’

‘Where’s the mester?’ the boy panted, his eyes dark with anxiety.

Esther pointed into the kitchen and then followed Ernie as he went through.

‘Hello, Ernie. What’s up?’ Matthew asked.

‘Me dad sent me to ask ya . . .’ He paused, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.

‘Yes,’ Matthew prompted. ‘What?’

‘Well, he knows – well, he feels awk’ard asking you like . . .’

‘Get on with it, Ernie.’

The words came out in a jumbled rush. ‘It’s Mester Eland. His fishing boat’s about two miles offshore with a distress signal hoisted . . .’

Matthew was on his feet in a moment.

‘He’s out cod-fishing. Two fellers on the front saw his sails whipped away by the wind. Nobody knows what to do, ’im being coxswain, like. Me – me dad wants to launch the lifeboat. It’ll be hard work rowing in these seas, he ses, and – well – he needs you to – to make up the number.’

Matthew and the boy stared at each other whilst Esther gasped aloud. ‘No, oh no, not in this lot!’

‘Shut up, Esther, and go and get the ’osses ready. We’ll need them, and ours are nearer than going all the way to Willoughby’s. Ernie, run and tell yar dad and the others to get up to the station and I’ll come with me ’osses.’

Ernie’s eyes glowed. ‘Me dad says I can come on the boat if you agrees?’

Matthew regarded the young lad steadily for a moment. ‘You sure?’

Ernie nodded, unable to speak with excitement.

‘Right, then.’

Esther opened the back door and bent her head to the wind. ‘Fancy being fool enough to go fishin’ in this weather,’ she muttered to herself. To be fair, she realized, the gales had blown up suddenly and unexpectedly. At milking time that morning, which would have been roughly when Robert Eland had set sail in his boat, the weather had been deceptively calm.

Punch and Prince were reluctant to leave the warmth of their stable. They flattened their ears and bent their heads as Esther pulled on their harness and then coaxed them outside. They tossed their heads and clattered their hooves on the cobbles and tried to pull backwards into the stable again.