The furniture which Hannah had polished lovingly herself every week, allowing no other hand to touch her best possessions, had been pushed back against the wall. In the centre of the room on two trestles lay the coffin with a posy of wild flowers upon it.

Esther drew breath sharply. She had not expected that her aunt would still be lying in the house.

She blinked and dragged her gaze away from the wooden box with its brass handles and glanced towards the family who stood in a semi-circle around the coffin.

Esther experienced another shock. Instead of the seven little faces of her cousins as she remembered them, there were five grown-ups to greet her. Well, almost, for only Ellen at thirteen seemed still a child. Two were missing, but now was not the moment to ask. Surely Will would have told her if . . . Then she remembered. Will had said the eldest were away in service. Surely, she thought, they would have been allowed to come home for their mother’s funeral?

Her uncle’s voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘Here’s your cousin Esther. You remember Esther, dun’t you?’ George was saying. Four heads nodded but the youngest girl merely stared at Esther, her eyes large in a pale, pinched face.

There was an embarrassed silence. No one seemed to know what they were expected to say. They stared at her and suddenly Esther felt shy in her finery. She felt out of place as she noticed Hannah’s own family were dressed in their Sunday best clothes, a black armband the only sign of their mourning.

She felt the flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. She was overdressed, as if she had put on a lavish display of prosperity, when in truth all her wealth – her very little wealth – had come from Sam Brumby or her own hard work. As if to add to her chagrin – though unwittingly trying to compliment her – George said, ‘Doesn’t your cousin look fine? You look real handsome, Esther. Your aunt – ’ he made an almost reverent gesture towards the coffin – ‘would be proud of you, wouldn’t she?’

The poor man, trying to do his best to ease a difficult situation, was turning to his family for support, for their approval of their cousin.

It was not forthcoming.

Rachael, the eldest present, pursed her lips and tossed her head. It was the gesture of disapproval that Esther had so often seen her aunt give. In an instant the years fell away and for a moment she was again the young girl at her aunt’s bidding, the bastard niece in Hannah’s household under sufferance.