But the words remained unspoken; they were words that must never be spoken – at least not to Kate.

Aloud she said, ‘Yar dad can look after himself now.’ Her tone was laced with a bitterness she could not prevent.

‘He still dun’t walk properly sometimes, Mam.’

‘Huh,’ Esther gave a disapproving grunt, opened her mouth to explain and then closed it again. Inwardly she sighed. How could she tell Kate that Matthew’s unsteadiness was caused not by his illness now, but by drink?

The child must have felt her mother’s controlled anger for she said no more and walked meekly beside Esther.

Each evening Kate slipped away to play with the Harris children and Danny Eland and however much Esther upbraided her, she could not stop her daughter, short of locking her up somewhere.

So time after time Esther had to leave her work and climb the Hump and shout to Kate. Then one evening as she crested the rise in the lane and stood on top of it, she saw the children playing on the grass near the cottages and her husband sitting on a bench seat outside the pub. Standing motionless on the deck of her boat home, looking down on the scene below her, was Beth Eland. Esther swivelled her glance to look at Matthew and saw that his face was upturned and his gaze was fixed upon Beth. Below, on the grass, quite oblivious of the grownups, Danny bowled a ball to Kate who hit it high in the air, shrieking with laughter.

‘Catch it, Enid, oh, catch it!’

Esther turned away and, unobserved, returned to the farm. For once she would let Kate come home of her own accord.

Back in her kitchen, Esther set the kettle on the hob and sat down at the table. For a long time she just sat there, staring out of the window that faced out over the front garden and across the flat land she now farmed. Her gaze was unseeing, for before her mind’s eye was the poignant picture of Matthew and Beth.

There was a dull ache of loneliness inside her, but the release of tears would not come. It was a pain – like Matthew’s and Beth’s – too deep for tears.

When at last Kate came home, Matthew was with her, leaning heavily on the child’s shoulder. Esther, busying herself in the pantry, stayed out of the kitchen until she had heard Kate scuttle quickly upstairs to her bed. When she stepped into the kitchen it was to find her husband sitting in the wooden chair at the side of the range, his head lolling back. His mouth wide open, he was snoring noisily.