‘Yar pig’s farrowing, mester, and it looks to me as if she might try to eat her young ’uns.’

Sam snorted. ‘That’s nothing new with that sow. Lost half the litter last time, Ah did.’

‘Well, not this time,’ Esther vowed, more to herself than to Sam.

‘What? What d’you say?’

‘I’ll stay with her, Mr Brumby.’

Sam sniffed again and turned away. ‘Well, Ah can’t stand here all day playing nursemaid to a pig. You do what you like.’

Esther smiled to herself at his oblique reference once more to her sex, but at least this time he had not told her to go.

Esther did not go into the house at midday. Her stomach was rumbling with hunger, but she dare not leave the sow for a moment.

‘Ah’ve brought you a mug o’ tea.’ She turned to see Matthew grinning at her over the half-door of the sty. He jerked his head back towards the house. ‘Mester said you was playing midwife to Curly.’

‘Ooh, ta,’ Esther said appreciatively, taking the tea. Matthew leant his forearms on the lower half of the door and rested his chin on his arms, watching the sow. ‘Awk’ard old devil, she is. You want to be careful – she’ll ’ave yar leg off soon as look at ya.’

Esther grinned and held up the hoe. ‘That’s why I’m armed – and why I’m standing near the door. But I reckon she’s a mite busy to be chasing me just now.’ They watched together as another piglet thrust its way into the world.

‘Here – hold this a minute, will ya?’ She moved forward and plucked the tiny animal away, wiped it and popped it into the tea-chest. Then she returned to her place by the door and took the mug back from Matthew, sipping the hot, sweet tea gratefully.

‘Well, I’d best be getting back to me hedging and ditching, else I’ll have the mester after me again.’

‘Thanks for the tea,’ Esther said.

‘Ya’re welcome.’ Giving her a saucy wink, Matthew went off whistling.

As the sixth piglet was born – and she could see that the sow was not done even then – Esther heard a familiar shrill whistle and moments later the wheels of the local carrier’s cart rattled into the yard.

‘Is she here, then?’ Will Benson was demanding to know of Sam.

‘Who?’ Then, understanding, Sam added accusingly, ‘Oh, so it’s you Ah’ve to thank for landing me with a chit of a girl, is it? Ah can’t get rid of the cheeky little baggage!’

Esther heard the carrier’s laugh. ‘That’s our Esther right enough. She’s a rare lass. You’ve met your match there, Sam Brumby. She’ll take no notice of your moods and your tempers.’