‘I can’t see the point of me buying, Esther lass, though I’m glad for you,’ the big man had boomed, his red cheeks wobbling with laughter. ‘No one deserves it more ‘n you. But I only want to work a few more years and what bit o’ savings we’ve got, I want to enjoy. See a bit o’ how the other half lives afore I die.’ His laughter had boomed out and he had winked saucily at Esther. She had smiled indulgently, trying to understand how anyone could even think of leaving Fleethaven Point. Less than six months after their conversation, Tom’s wife, Martha, had died. So now only Tom and his sister-in-law lived at Rookery Farm.

The Souters, whom Kate didn’t know very well, for their farm lay to the west of the Squire’s estate and was the farthest away from Brumbys’, were known to be spendthrifts and had neither the ready money nor the collateral to raise a loan.

So Esther was the only one to buy. At last, she had her reward for all her years of hard work. And now, Kate thought, all that might be snatched away from her mother if their country were plunged once more into war.

But perhaps, Kate thought, our little corner of England will hardly notice the war.

How wrong she was!

Kate walked down the lane towards home, with Danny riding his bike at the side of her, wobbling precariously as he tried to slow his pace to match her walking speed.

‘So what are you going to do, now you’re back? Get your old job back at old man Reynolds’?’

‘I might. Miss Davenport was telling Mam only last week that the workroom supervisor’s leaving to get married.’

‘Your old job, eh?’

‘Maybe, but I might be needed to do something a little bit more important.’ She glanced at him and added, impishly. ‘I could always join up.’

Danny’s eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘What d’you reckon women could do, eh?’

‘Plenty!’ she flashed back, just as he had known she would. ‘It was the last war that set us free from the kitchen sink. Women worked as VAD nurses, in factories, all sorts . . .’

‘Remember it, do you?’ He was grinning at her indignation, teasing her fondly.

‘No. One of my clients in Lincoln, Mrs Clarkson, was a VAD nurse in the last lot. She loved to talk about it when she came for a fitting. We’ll play an even bigger part this time – you’ll see!’

‘It’ll not come to much, I don’t reckon. It’ll all be over by Christmas.’

Ominously, Kate reminded him, ‘That’s what they said last time!’

Eighteen

Of course it was not over by Christmas, nor even by well into 1940. The news was not good and as it got worse, Kate began to fear that any day, Danny would say he was volunteering.