‘By, them’s posh places, mester.’ Esther broke the silence. Twisting and turning as she walked she pointed excitedly to right and left. ‘Look at that ’un – it’s a mansion!’

Esther noticed a brass plate fixed to the gatepost. Laboriously she spelt out the name. ‘Doctor Blair.’

Sam neither answered nor turned his head. Esther heard his sniff that indicated disapproval. Evidently Sam Brumby had no time for the town-dwellers.

They walked through the town centre, down the main street with little shops huddled together and living quarters above, and on almost out of the town to a small church. Sam walked up the flagged path, gravestones standing sentinel on either side, to the low porch. Esther followed.

Beth was sitting in a pew half-way down the left hand side of the church, her dark head bowed, her eyes closed piously in prayer. On her left against the wall sat Matthew, but on her right was a thickset man with dark hair. His mouth was completely hidden by a full beard so it was impossible to see if he ever smiled. It was unlikely that he did, for there was no laughter in his eyes beneath heavy, dark eyebrows. The visible part of his face was weather-beaten and lined, giving his forehead the impression of a permanent frown. Esther had seen this man before – he had been one of the visiting harvest workers – but she had never learnt his name.

As if feeling her gaze upon him, the man turned his head slightly and looked straight into Esther’s eyes.

The frown seemed to deepen.

Wordlessly, Sam motioned Esther to precede him into a pew on the opposite side of the aisle to where Matthew, Beth and the stranger were sitting. Beth seemed not to have noticed their arrival, or was deliberately ignoring them.

The service began and Esther watched and listened. The altar steps overflowed with the offerings from the congregation of fruit and vegetables, flowers and even one or two small wheat-sheaves and corn dollies. The atmosphere was warm and friendly as if the air of thanksgiving pervaded the congregation. She knelt beside Sam and watched covertly as he turned the pages of his prayer book. Esther was no great reader, yet she had learned enough to be able to find the same page in the book as Sam had, and then she proceeded to make a pretence at following the service, moving her lips and miming the prayers, deliberately inaudible.

Esther could not remember having been in a church before. Her Aunt Hannah had been a staunch Methodist and Chapel was the only form of worship with which Esther was familiar.