SAM Brumby’s hay was gathered and stacked in the farmyard. Now it was time for Sam, Esther and Matthew to go to the other farms and offer their help in return, but at least this time Esther did not have to provide the food for the workers. This was the task of the womenfolk on the farms where they went to work.

At Tom Willoughby’s farm, Esther was surprised to see Beth coming out to the field carrying baskets laden with food.

‘What’s she doin’ here?’ Esther demanded of Ma Harris.

Ma Harris lived in the end cottage at Fleethaven Point. She had a horde of children, but there, to Esther’s relief, all resemblance to her Aunt Hannah ended. Ma Harris was shorter than Esther and her plump little body reminded Esther of a cottage loaf on legs. Her grey hair was drawn back into a bun and covered by a white frilled bonnet which she always wore. Esther wondered if she even took it off to go to bed. Ma Harris was a motherly woman, with a ready laugh, a kindly word, and although she often delivered a stinging slap if one of her brood misbehaved, it was a swift chastisement made with rough affection and soon forgotten by both child and mother.

‘Who, lass?’ Ma asked in response to Esther’s question.

‘Beth Hanley.’

Ma Harris looked across the field. ‘She’s got a job as dairymaid for the Willoughbys. Posh, ain’t she, in her white apron and cap? Gone up in the world, ’as our Beth,’ Ma Harris laughed, opening her mouth to reveal almost toothless gums. She turned back to Esther. ‘You ought to wear a bonnet, lass, in this sun.’

Esther grinned at the older woman. ‘To protect my milky white skin, you mean, Mrs Harris?’

Ma Harris’s laugh cackled out across the field at Esther’s sarcasm against herself. Of all the women and young girls in the field, only Esther wore no protection of any kind on her head against the heat of the day. Pride would not let her admit that she did not possess a bonnet. Ma Harris, however, was a wise woman and good-hearted and, within her means, as generous as it was possible to be. The following day, she brought one of her old bonnets and made Esther stand meekly whilst she tied it on the girl’s head. ‘’Twill keep all that grass seed out o’ your lovely hair, lass. By, I ain’t seen prettier hair than yours. Auburn streaks, it’s got, when the sun shines on it.’

Esther thanked her both for the bonnet and the unaccustomed compliment. Working the rest of the day at Ma Harris’s side, listening to her prattle and smiling as the woman marshalled her children whilst never pausing in her own work, Esther basked in the warmth of her motherly friendliness.