It was not Matthew. As the figure came nearer she saw that the man was a stranger to her. He was taller than her husband and his fair hair fell forward in a gentle flick over his forehead. His skin was a smooth light brown, but his face was thin, his cheeks hollowed. As he walked along he seemed to be deep in thought, for he was frowning slightly. As he drew level with her, he looked up and saw her standing there. A smile crinkled his face and lit up his blue eyes.

‘Good afternoon, ma’am.’ His voice was deep and soft, with a well-spoken gentleness in it. ‘I wonder if you can help me?’

Esther ran her tongue over her lips and smoothed her palms down her skirt. She felt suddenly hot and dirty – and ridiculously shy.

‘I – I’ll try.’ Her mouth was dry and her voice came out in a croak.

His face sobered as he said quietly, ‘I’m looking for Mrs Harris. I understand the family live at the end of this road?’

Esther nodded. ‘The – the end cottage at the Point itself. There’s a row of four.’

He smiled again, but there was a sadness that did not leave his eyes this time. ‘I’ve – er – come to see her about Ernie?’

There was a moment’s silence between them as they stared at each other. ‘Did – did you know him, then?’ she asked.

The man nodded. ‘I was with him . . .’

Esther drew breath sharply. ‘Not – you mean – when he – he was killed?’

The man nodded. ‘Yes. I’ve – er – brought her a letter from him. At least – I wrote down what he asked me to tell her. I’ve not been able to get here before now, and I particularly wanted to bring it to her myself. I didn’t want to just send it. Perhaps I can reassure her’ – there was pain in his eyes as he remembered – ‘that he didn’t suffer – not too much.’ His glance flickered away and Esther wondered if he were being quite truthful. But his good intentions could not be doubted.

There was a lump in Esther’s throat as she said, ‘It’s kind of you to come and see Ma . . . I mean, Ernie’s mother.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s no more than we do for each other all the time – out there.’ There was a trace of bitterness in the final two words.

Esther did not argue, although she could not imagine Matthew sitting beside a dying boy, listening to his last message home, and then travelling to a remote part of the country to deliver that message in person to his mother.

Esther continued to gaze at the stranger and he returned her trance-like stare. He seemed to be searching for something to say, anything to say, that would keep him here, talking to her.