Matthew shrugged. ‘I dun’t mind. I gets all the sailing I want on the lifeboat.’

They walked on in silence for a time, watching the crowds thronging the beach and the pier. Merry laughter filled the air and the shouts of children at play mingled with the sounds of the sea.

‘Come on, let’s go on the pier then,’ Matthew said and, taking hold of her hand, he led her up to the entrance, through the barrier and out on to the pier, laughing as Esther caught at her bonnet which was in danger of being whipped from her head. ‘The wind seems stronger out here,’ she gasped.

They walked on and soon the waves were breaking beneath them. Esther looked down between the gaps in the planking to see the water swirling below. She clung tightly to Matthew’s arm. ‘Oooh, I feel as if I might fall in.’

‘Dun’t be daft, woman, how could ya fall through them little cracks?’

Esther grinned at her own foolishness. ‘I know, but – but it feels as if I could.’

She shifted the sleeping Kate to a more comfortable position and the child stirred and whimpered. She rubbed her eyes, gave a huge yawn and then smiled prettily at her mother. She wound her chubby arms round Esther’s neck and pressed her pale pink cheek to her mother’s.

‘Mamma,’ she murmured.

Esther patted the child’s back. ‘There’s my clever girl.’

At her side she felt Matthew stop suddenly and having moved on a pace herself, she stopped and turned to look back at him. He was staring at the child incredulously. ‘She’s talking. She – said a proper word.’

‘Well, I should hope so!’ Esther pretended indignation. ‘She’s almost two.’

Matthew moved closer. Kate turned her face towards him and smiled, her cheeks dimpling, her green eyes laughing and her red baby curls dancing in the breeze. She unwound her arms from her mother’s neck and, with a child’s artfulness, held them out to her father. ‘Dadda, Dadda.’

Matthew’s gasp was audible. ‘She – she called me Dadda,’ he exclaimed unnecessarily.

Esther almost giggled but then as she watched the softening expression on Matthew’s face, her mirth turned to a deep pleasure. Matthew reached out to take the child from her. He held her carefully, almost like a china doll, his large hands encompassing her waist. He lifted her up to look at her properly. The child gurgled and laughed and repeated the word that had won her such attention. ‘Dadda, Dadda.’

Matthew grinned suddenly and settled his daughter in the crook of his arm. ‘Ah’ll carry her for a bit, if you like. She must be heavy for you after a time.’

‘She is,’ Esther admitted and eased her aching shoulders thankfully.