She came back white-faced and sat down in the wooden Windsor chair near the range, her hands clutching the arms until the knuckles showed white just staring into the fire, yet her eyes were glazed, unseeing. She forgot the house and clearing up the mess left by the sea, she ignored the needs of her farm and the animals; she didn’t even seem to realize her granddaughter was still there, needing her, at this moment, more than anyone or anything else. She sat like that for so long that Jonathan became concemed.

‘If only she would cry – let it out,’ Ella overheard him telling Danny. Perhaps more than any of them, though only young, Ella knew how her grandmother was feeling, for she felt the same. The grief was so deep, too deep for tears. There was a misery locked away inside that would not, could not find release. It was like a solid, aching mass of suffering in the pit of her stomach. She could not reach her grandmother and the older woman could not comfort the girl. So alike were they that they were both tormented in the same way and yet could not help each other.

For once Jonathan could do nothing with Esther; trying to cope with his own personal grief over Kate, whom he had loved since her childhood – and still suffering from the effects of his drenching in the cold floodwater – took all his energy. He was exhausted and devastated himself.

And then Beth Eland came to the farm.

Ella watched in astonishment as Beth came waddling into the house, heaving her heavy frame into the kitchen and coming to stand in front of Esther. Jonathan stood by the door, like Ella just watching and waiting.

The girl had gathered that there was some long-standing family feud between Esther and Rob’s grandmother. What was it she had overheard her mother say to Uncle Danny at that old man’s funeral? ‘There’s so much between them, Danny,’ Kate had said. ‘So much they can’t forget, yet they always come together when there’s trouble.’

And so now, in the greatest trouble that Ella could ever imagine happening, here was Grandma Beth Eland coming to Esther to try to help her.

‘Well, lass . . .’ Beth began, and Ella felt an hysterical giggle rise suddenly inside her. To hear these two old women call each other ‘lass’ would have been so funny if the reason for it were not so tragic. ‘. . . this won’t do. It won’t do at all, Esther.’

There was silence as Beth paused but there was no response. Beth tried again. ‘Come along, Esther. The bairn needs you now. She’s grieving. Much as we all loved Kate, and you know we did, her little lass has lost everything – everything. Ella needs to know you love her, Esther.’