Uncle Eb was a solid, cheerful-looking man, his fleshy face topped by grizzled curly hair and, beneath a bulbous nose, a bushy grey moustache. Over white shirtsleeves he wore a dark weskit, shiny with age, curving at the front to cover a bow-window belly which protruded over dark-clad, also bowed, legs. He held his arms out, beaming.

‘So – our Young Ladies have arrived! Come on, wenches, come and give yer uncle a kiss!’

The girls got to their feet to be kissed and embraced. Uncle Eb smelt of chemicals and pipe tobacco.

‘Well . . .’ He held each one of them by the hand and gazed into their faces. ‘Look at you both! Is that you then, our Maggie – my word, she’s the image of her father, isn’t she, Hatt? And little Annie – gracious, I’ve never known who you take after, bab. You don’t favour your mother much, do yer?’

Annie shrugged, smiling. ‘I must be from under the gooseberry bush,’ she said and her uncle and aunt laughed.

‘Oh, I doubt that very much!’ Uncle Eb laughed. ‘Any road – you need a bolt hole? I can’t believe you young missionary wenches could be getting into too much mischief. What’s going on?’

‘Eb.’ Harriet’s voice was sharp. ‘Don’t start on the poor girls now. They’ve only just arrived.’

‘Oh, pardon me.’ Eb held his hands up in surrender. ‘There I go, both feet in as usual. Don’t mind me. What lovely wenches you are! Bit on the scrawny side, though – need feeding up, the pair of yer. Have a bit of cake? Make yourselves at home – our home is your home – Liberty Hall, eh, Hatt?’ He squeezed their hands, then let go. ‘Any tea left in that pot? Georgie’s still here – he’s coming in to see you as well.’

Seconds later their son Georgie, a tall, slender man, appeared at the door, and stood watching them, smiling. He was handsome, with dark hair and a sallow complexion, very obviously his mother’s son. He must be twenty-six now, Margaret thought, startled.

‘Margaret and Annie, isn’t it?’ He came and shook their hands shyly, but his brown eyes gave off liveliness and interest. ‘Nice that you could come – how long are you staying?’

‘They don’t know for sure yet,’ Aunt Hatt said as they looked at each other awkwardly. ‘Now, Georgie, stay for once and have a cup of tea with your cousins, won’t you?’ She looked at Margaret and Annie, pulling a face. ‘He’s always off somewhere, this one – for the firm, I mean.’

‘Can’t, Mother.’ He rolled his eyes comically. ‘Clara wants me home – or there’ll be trouble. He smiled at the girls. ‘I’ll be in tomorrow. Hope to see you then.’

‘Well, if you’ve really got to rush off again,’ Aunt Hatt said long-sufferingly, ‘before you go, you could carry these young girls’ bags upstairs for them.’