They could hear the music from the saloon now, music such as Esther had never heard before. Inside, they sat down to listen to the sweet melodies from violins and then a man with a strong, vibrant voice began to sing. She couldn’t make out the words, but she enjoyed watching him waving his arms and closing his eyes and tossing his head. He knows what he’s singing about, she thought, even if I don’t. Then at the end everyone stood whilst the orchestra played ‘God Save the King’ and even some members of the audience were singing now, Esther noticed. Then it was over and they all went out once again on to the pier. It was cooler now than when they had gone in, and the breeze was even stronger so that Esther had to hold on to her bonnet and bend her head against the wind.

‘We’d best get back, Esther. Looks as if it could turn to rain.’

Esther smiled up at him. ‘It’d be worth a soaking. I don’t know when I enjoyed mesen so much.’

Playfully Matthew doffed his hat towards her and made a little bow. ‘We aim to please, ma’am.’ Then, still carrying Kate in one arm, he put the other around Esther’s waist and held her close to him as they hurried along the pier and towards home.

Esther was to look back on that day with a sense of regret. There had been, on that bright August Bank Holiday, the tentative hope that things could be better between herself and Matthew; that with a little time, they could become a family.

But the happenings in the weeks that followed were to smash any chance they might have had of a lasting happiness.

Nineteen

WHEN Will Benson’s cart rattled into the yard on the following Friday morning, Esther called out from the back door, drying her hands on a towel as she went to meet him, ‘Whatever are you doin’ coming on a Friday? You was only here yesterday.’

Instead of answering her question, he asked her another. ‘You heard the news?’

‘News? What news?’ Esther was shocked by the solemn expression on his face. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Will Benson without a smile beneath his moustache and a twinkle in his eyes. ‘Will – is summat wrong?’

He climbed down slowly, a folded newspaper in his hand, and came towards her. Fleetingly she thought, something must be very wrong. He hasn’t even looked around for Kate, or asked about her.

‘We’re at war, Esther lass.’

‘War? What d’ya mean, war?’

Will unfolded the newspaper he was carrying. ‘It’s in the paper.’ He glanced up at her. ‘Dun’t you get the local paper that comes out on a Friday?’