He laughed aloud. ‘Don’t give either of them another thought, my dear. Besides, your room will be there for you whenever you can come to see us. There is just one thing, though. What about young Martin Hughes? He’s forever asking about you.’

Haltingly, she said, ‘He’s nice, but there could never be anything more than friendship between us.’

‘Not on your side, maybe, but I’m not so sure about his feelings for you,’ Philip said.

‘I’ll write to him,’ she promised.

‘Well, let him down gently, my dear.’

She put her arms round him and hugged him. He was such a kind man, thinking of the feelings of others, and she loved him for it. For a moment his arms were around her fiercely as if, now he had found her, he never wanted to let her go. When they released each other and turned back towards the house, her father’s arm resting on her shoulders, they saw Esther standing in the doorway watching them.

‘Gran . . .?’ Ella began, but without a word Esther turned away and went back inside the house.

Thirty-Five

‘So, when are ya going?’

‘Eh?’ Startled, Ella stared at her grandmother, pausing mid-way between kitchen and pantry as she cleared away all the food after the party. All the guests had gone, and Grandpa Godfrey had been dispatched to bed early. He had kissed Ella on the forehead. ‘My dear girl, I don’t know when we last had such fun. Thank you for everything.’ And Ella knew he was not referring to this day alone.

‘I don’t know what you mean, Gran,’ she said. ‘Wait a minute till I’ve put these cakes away.’

‘Now,’ Ella said, coming back into the kitchen and standing on the hearthrug in front of her grandmother sitting in the straight-backed wooden chair. ‘What are you talking about? Where am I supposed to be going?’

‘Back to Lincoln – or mebbe even to – them!’

The old eyes would not meet Ella’s gaze, but the girl noticed that Esther’s hands were gripping the arms of the chair until her knuckles showed white.

‘Gran,’ she said softly, ‘I’m not going anywhere. Not back to Lincoln, nor to live with my father. I’m staying here—’

‘But for how long? Eh?’ Esther’s head snapped up, her eyes sparking with resentment. ‘Tell me that! Ya’ll soon get fed up and be off again. Off to ya dad and ya fancy grandmother with her posh clothes and . . .’

Ella’s blue eyes were holding the green, belligerent gaze. Slowly she shook her head. ‘No, Gran. This is my home. I’m staying here – for good!’

The old eyes stared up at her and then, to Ella’s shock, they filled with tears; tears that overflowed and trickled down the soft wrinkles of Esther’s face.

‘Grannie – oh, Grannie – don’t!’