Esther wrinkled her forehead. ‘I remember climbing up on to yar cart when you came around the village and me aunt never shouted at me for it. I could never understand that. She shouted at me for everything else.’

Will laughed. ‘Aye, well, she knew better than to cross me.’

Esther glanced at him and bit her lip. Will stared straight ahead as they walked together down the lane towards the Point. The bride and groom rode in Esthers pony and trap whilst all the other guests walked behind them.

‘I remember you always used to listen to me and talk to me as though I was somebody. No one else ever did that, Will. Not when I was little, anyway.’

Briefly his hand covered hers where it rested on his arm. ‘You were always special to me, Esther lass, always.’

They had reached the Hump and once over it were enveloped in the wedding celebrations and her moment of intimacy with Will was lost.

From her little cottage, Ma Harris produced the biggest spread that the people of Fleethaven Point had ever seen. Luckily it was a fine, warm afternoon and so the guests played and danced on the grass outside the row of cottages. Trestle tables had been borrowed and the wedding feast was held out of doors.

Enid’s new husband was a tall, thin young man, with a slight stoop caused by the loss of his leg. In some ways he reminded Esther poignantly of Jonathan. When the light glinted on his hair or he stooped down to speak to Enid, his head slightly on one side, his eyes smiling into hers, he was so like Jonathan in his actions.

Watching the young couple in the church and now here sitting side by side at the wedding reception, shy and not a little embarrassed, but so happy, Esther felt again the aching loneliness. She ought to be content, she told herself fiercely, she had so much and today she was surrounded by so many happy people. All the Harris family were there, the young ones capering and chasing one another in a noisy game of tag after the wedding feast was finished whilst the adults chatted amongst themselves.

There were new faces too amongst the small community: the bridegroom’s family. Ma introduced them to her friends and neighbours. ‘This is Walter’s mam and dad, Mr and Mrs Maine, Esther, and this is his grandad.’

Esther found herself shaking hands with an old man with a long white beard, who leant heavily on a walking-stick, his legs as bowed as she remembered Sam Brumby’s being. At her side, Kate gazed up at the old man with trance-like fascination.

The old man laughed wheezily and grasping his long beard, he tickled Kate under her chin with its wispy ends. ‘Now, little girl, ain’t you ever seen a beard like this ’un afore?’