He took the plate and the cup and saucer from her and, placing the tea on the hearth, bit into the cheese.

‘Suppose I’d better make a start on the ploughing at Top End tomorrow.’ He paused, his gaze on the dying embers of the fire. ‘That all right with you?’

Taking her cue from him, Esther said, ‘Yes, fine. We’d do well to make the best of the mild autumn weather. Can ya borrow the horses?’

Matthew nodded. ‘I saw Tom in the Seagull tonight. He’ll bring ’em over in the morning.’

There was silence between them again, whilst Matthew ate and Esther merely nibbled at a piece of bread. She was wondering what was going to happen when they went upstairs. She realized that she should have made preparations for their wedding night, for their first night together in the home that was now rightfully and legally theirs.

She cleared her throat nervously. ‘Er – I’ll go up. You’ll see to things down here, then, will ya?’

Matthew did not look round, but merely grunted.

Upstairs, Esther stood in the room where Matthew had slept on a makeshift bed on the floor. Then she moved into the small narrow room leading off it where she had been sleeping in the single bed. She undressed quickly and then, hearing Matthew’s footsteps on the stairs, she scuttled on bare feet back into his room and lay down beneath the rough blankets on the straw-filled sacks on the floor.

As he reached the top of the stairs, she heard him open the door into Sam’s room, pause and then close it again.

She was holding her breath as he stepped into the room where she lay. He came and stood over her, the candle in his right hand as he looked down at her. For a long moment, in the eerie shadows cast by the flickering light, they stared at each other. Then he blew out the candle. She heard the rattle as he set it down. In one swift movement the blankets were pulled from her and she felt his weight come down on top of her.

The daily demands of the farm forced them to settle quickly into a routine. The following morning Matthew fetched his belongings from the cottage that had been his home at the Point, and Esther scrubbed and cleaned the bedroom that had been Sam’s. Now it was Matthew’s Sunday best suit that stood on the hanger in the corner, Matthew’s boots set ready beneath. There was fresh linen on the bed and on cold winter nights there would be a fire in the grate.

But Esther did not try to remove every trace of the old man to whom she owed so much. She put Sam’s family pictures on the mantelpiece and that night, as they undressed for bed, Matthew padded across the floor to look at the faded photographs.