Will Benson was a dapper little man, dressed more smartly than the farmer. He wore trousers and a striped jacket and matching waistcoat, and the toes of his sturdy boots shone. He sported a ginger moustache which drooped at the corners hiding to some extent the shape of his mouth. Some days he wore a cap and on hot summer days a kind of boater-shaped hat. Esther knew him well for he lived in the same village where she lived – or rather had lived, she reminded herself. She smiled as she saw Will take off his cap. He had a good head of hair for a man of his age, she thought, seeing it smooth and glinting ginger in the sunlight. She liked Will. He had always treated her kindly and even on occasions boldly outfaced her aunt on her behalf. There weren’t many who dared to do that, Esther thought ruefully, yet Will Benson always seemed to get away with it.

He was speaking again now. ‘She’s a good lass, Sam, I can tell you. Treated rough, she’s been, by that shrew of an aunt of hers. Mind you, she’s raised Esther alongside her own bairns, you can’t deny, but only out of a sense of – of duty. She never showed the poor lass any affection.’ He shook his head and added bitterly, ‘She could show it to her own, though. She made the difference between them very obvious, I can tell you.’

Sam said nothing whilst the carrier chattered on. ‘She’s a hard worker,’ and he added a little ruefully, ‘she’s had to be, with Hannah for her aunt! The lass deserves better. She ought to be given a chance.’ Esther felt a blush of embarrassment creep up her face. She had never before heard herself so praised.

‘What happened to her folks, then?’

‘Her mother, Hannah’s younger sister, died giving birth to her,’ Will replied briefly.

‘What about her father?’

‘How should I know?’ As if to cut off any more of Sam’s questions, Will climbed down from his seat. ‘I can’t sit here chatting all day. I’ve me rounds to do. I’ll just have a word with the lass an’ I’ll be on me way. Where is she?’

From the pigsty, Esther saw Sam jerk his head in her direction. Even from this distance, Esther heard Sam’s dismissive sniff. ‘Wasting her time wi’ me sow.’

As the conversation between the two men ceased, Esther hung over the half-door of the pigsty. ‘’Morning, Mr Benson,’ she called.

‘Eh, there you are, Esther lass.’ He gave a wave in greeting and came towards her. ‘You settling in all right, then?’

‘Ah ain’t said she’s staying yet,’ Sam Brumby raised his voice before Esther could reply.

She grinned at Will. ‘He’ll find he’s a job on ’is hands to get rid of me though, won’t he, Mr Benson?’