Esther pursed her mouth. ‘You know I’m not one for dragging up the past. We had our quarrel about it at the time, so there’s no more to be said. But I can’t bring mesen to perch up there on that great noisy thing. Now if it could pull the plough or drive the threshing drum, then it’d be some use. As it is . . .’ She flung out her hand towards the car standing in the yard, a constant reminder as to where all her hard-earned money had gone and why she was now terrified that the coming harvest would not be a good one.

None of these fears did she ever voice to Matthew. He neither helped with the work nor seemed to care what happened to the farm. She carried the burden alone and knew she would have to go on doing so and reproach him no more, but that didn’t mean she had to succumb to his foolishness.

She leant towards him. ‘I ain’t riding in the thing, Matthew, an’ that’s that!’

‘Please ya’sen,’ he shouted. ‘There’s others that’ll ride with me. Aye, an’ they mean more to me than you ever could.’

As he went from the house and slammed the door behind him, she leant against the table. Suddenly an intense longing for Jonathan swept over her and the loneliness of her life engulfed her. Even though she had husband, child and friends close by she always felt herself to be alone.

It seemed to Esther this year that no sooner had the harvest been gathered in than Christmas was upon them. To her immense relief the harvest had been a good one – not abundant, but good enough. They would not go short through the winter, despite the disappearance of her savings.

The bad weather seemed to close in earlier than normal. Heavy rain made the late ploughing difficult, and blustery winds whipped bitingly across the flat land. The animals huddled in the farmyard and even Esther found excuses to stay in her warm kitchen and cook and bake ready for Christmas rather than face the dreadful weather.

Come the spring, she told herself, it’ll be better.

It turned out to be the happiest Christmas she could remember. Matthew seemed more even-tempered and much better in health. He even made an effort to help with the preparations. He stirred the puddings, urging Kate to make a wish. ‘Dun’t tell what you wish, not to anyone, Katie, for then it won’t come true.’ He was smiling down at her as the child shut her eyes and screwed up her face.

Matthew was chuckling. ‘My word, that looks as if it’s a wish and a half.’

He plucked, drew and dressed the goose ready for the oven – a job Esther hated.

‘We must put up the trimmings, Katie, and tomorrow we’ll drive into town and get a Christmas tree.’