Back in the kitchen where her baby slept soundly now, Esther threw more wood on the range fire and warmed her chilled body. She had quietened her child and soothed the restless animals. Now that there was nothing to busy herself with, it was Esther who felt unsettled and worried. There had been no word of how the rescue was going. Every nerve in her body seemed to be twitching so that she could not keep still. She paced the small space that was the hearth, walking across to the cradle and back again to the fire, hugging her shawl around her for comfort as much as for warmth.

Why didn’t someone come and tell her what was happening?

She paced the floor again. It was no good. Afraid as she was of the storm, it was far worse waiting here alone and not knowing what was going on. She glanced across at the cradle and bit her lip with indecision. There was no way she could take the child down to the shore on such a wild night, nor could she leave her here alone in the house.

The waiting was dreadful. In the darkness with the storm still raging round the farmhouse, Esther’s imagination ran riot. What if they were all drowned – Robert Eland and the men who had tried to rescue him? What a devastating effect it would have on this small community. Only widows and fatherless children would be left, and poor Ma Harris, she would lose both husband and son.

‘I know,’ she said aloud at the thought of Ma Harris, ‘she’ll look after her.’

If she wrapped the baby warmly, Esther told herself, and carried the wicker cradle to the cottages at the Point, Ma Harris would keep an eye on Kate, just for an hour or so whilst Esther went down to the beach.

‘I can’t bear this dreadful not knowing what’s happening any longer,’ she muttered.

Once her decision had been made, within minutes Esther was pulling the door to behind her. Hugging the cradle close to her, she struggled against the wind along the lane towards the Point and Ma Harris’s cottage.

The door was opened reluctantly by a thin-faced girl of about fourteen or so. It was ‘our Enid’ as Ma always called her. Esther smiled, ‘Is yar ma in?’

The girl shook her head. ‘Naw, she’s gone to the beach to see if she can see me dad . . .’

‘Aren’t they back yet?’

Another shake of the head.

‘Oh.’ For a moment Esther was uncertain.

‘What did ya want?’ the girl ventured.

‘I – I just wanted to go to the beach mesen, and I wondered if Ma – if ya mother – would keep an eye on the bairn for me.’