Kate sat up and reached for the milk eagerly. Crying had dried her mouth and left a salty taste on her lips.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said between gulps, ‘you – went looking – for me.’

He sat down on the bed, holding the plate ready for her. ‘You should have come straight home, Kate. I told you this morning. It was the first time you’ve had to walk all that way on your own . . .’

As his words reminded her, fresh tears started.

‘We were worried, that’s all.’ His tone was firm, making her understand that she had been thoughtless, but he stroked the hair back from her forehead with a gentle gesture that took the sting from his reproach.

‘Me mam’s not really going to send me away to school, is she?’ Kate asked, her green eyes wide and appealing. She struggled inwardly, wanting to ask if it was because of the new baby. But Lilian was his child – and she wasn’t. Even though this gentle, kind man was as good to her as any real father could have been, Kate thought, still she was not his child.

She bit deeply into the thick bread and butter and filled her mouth to stop it speaking.

He sighed and stroked her hair again. ‘You’re growing up, Kate. You’re almost a woman and – and your mother’s worried about you spending so much time with – with – well – boys.’

She saw him hesitate and thought that perhaps he was embarrassed to touch upon delicate, feminine matters.

A mischievous grin quirked at her mouth even through her recent tears. ‘Me mam has told me about the birds and the bees. I mean, I know I mustn’t let boys do to me what the old boar does to the sow when he visits.’

Her grin widened at his shocked gasp. ‘Kate!’

‘Oh, I’ve often watched,’ she said airily, wiping the crumbs from her mouth with the back of her hand.

‘You shouldn’t talk like that. It’s not the sort of talk for young girls . . .’

He paused and she saw he was staring at her through the gloom. ‘What?’ she prompted.

He sighed and she felt the waft of his breath on her face. ‘Maybe,’ he said slowly, thoughtfully, ‘that’s what your mother means. You need to learn to be more – more ladylike.’

Kate gave a snort of laughter and then clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the noise. ‘Me? Ladylike?’ The thought was so comical that for a moment it drove away her tears.

‘Your mother’s only trying to do what’s best for you.’ Her stepfather patted her hand, picked up the empty plate and glass and stood up. ‘I’ll see what I can do, Kate. But I can’t promise to make her change her mind, you know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, Dad. But if you’d try.’