Hannah watched surreptitiously as Josephine oversaw the removal of her boxes of crap from the house. Not before time either, as far as she was concerned; it was like an obstacle course to get in, and Michael should have put his foot down years ago. She could see the panic in her daughter-in-law’s eyes as the house was gradually emptied of her purchases. Despite herself, she actually felt sorry for the girl. Anyone would think she was being asked to give her family away. For the first time, Hannah realised that her daughter-in-law had a real problem.

‘Come and sit down, Josephine. I’ve hardly spoken to you since I got here!’

Josephine looked at her in distress. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute, Hannah. I just need to make sure that everything is put away properly, where I can find it . . .’

Hannah stood up with the child in her arms, and walked to where her daughter-in-law was standing. She was at the back door and, as she went to follow the young men out to the garage, Hannah grabbed her by the arm.

‘Leave it be. I don’t want to upset you, but you’re acting strange, love. These young men Michael sent here to move everything out of the house can see how strange you’re acting. People talk, love, you know that as well as I do. Don’t give them the opportunity for a story. If not for yourself, then for Michael. He can’t be seen as having any kind of weakness. Now, come and sit down, and I’ll make a fresh pot of tea.’

Josephine knew that the woman was right; she wasn’t acting rationally. She shouldn’t care about what was happening. But it wasn’t that easy. She couldn’t help the way she felt. Watching everything leave the house was like witnessing the death of a loved one. She felt bereft and vulnerable.

Hannah pulled her gently away from the door. ‘Sit down and nurse your baby. I can see how hard this is for you, Josephine, but you have to let it go.’ She passed the child to her daughter-in-law, and watched as her natural maternal instincts took over.

Josephine sat down at the kitchen table and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. Little Jessie was so good-natured, and she thanked God for that much at least. She wasn’t a cross child and rarely cried.

‘She is so contented, Josephine. I’ve never seen such a contented child in all my born days. That is all down to you, and your wonderful mothering.’