Beth nodded. ‘She’s a strange woman, ya mother. She was kindness itself when Robert was killed, I can’t deny that. But – well – we’ve had this all our lives. There’s that much between us. We can’t be friends – not ever – but, whenever there’s trouble, we can’t be enemies either.’ She smiled a little self-consciously and added, ‘I s’pose I’m as much to blame as she is. In the early years, it was me who was bitter towards her.’ She shrugged, but the years could not be shrugged off so easily. ‘Never mind about that now, lass. What about you?’

‘I – I don’t know. I’ll have to leave the WAAFs soon, and me mam, it seems, doesn’t want me to come home.’

The two women gasped, their eyes wide. ‘Not want you to come home?’ they chorused in surprise.

‘Oh, she’s going too far this time,’ Beth muttered, at once like a mother hen with ruffled feathers. ‘I’ll go and tell her what I think . . .’

‘No – no, don’t,’ Kate said swiftly. ‘I’ve caused enough trouble. Besides,’ she added, and although she spoke bravely, she couldn’t keep the doubt from her tone, ‘I’m hoping Dad will be able to bring her round in time.’

Her feathers smoothed a little, Beth said, ‘Well, if anyone can make her see sense, it’s Jonathan . . .’

From the garden came a wail and Rosie rushed out to bring in her son. ‘Here you are.’ She came back in and placed the baby in Kate’s arms. ‘Here’s ya Auntie Kate to see you.’ And Kate found herself looking down into the solemn brown gaze of Danny’s son.

The baby gazed back at her and then a broad smile stretched across his chubby face and his fat little hands wavered towards her face.

‘Oh, Rosie, he’s lovely!’ she exclaimed, and the little fellow’s mother and grandmother stood watching, beaming proudly.

‘I won’t have her here and that’s an end to it.’

‘Very well,’ Jonathan said, his mouth tight and a deep frown on his forehead. ‘If that’s your final word, Esther, so be it. But I think you’re wrong – and I think you’ll regret it.’

‘Where would you’ve been if ya Aunt Hannah had said the same all them years back?’ Will Benson raged. ‘Answer me that!’

‘A lot better off, probably,’ Esther retorted, unrelenting.

‘Don’t talk daft, girl,’ her father snapped back.

Despite the family quarrel Kate had caused, she almost laughed to hear her mother addressed as ‘girl’. But then, she supposed, to a parent their child is always a child.

‘Ya’d have been in the workhouse but for her,’ Will went on.

‘It weren’t no better than the workhouse. I might have fared better there.’

‘Oh, Esther, that’s not fair . . .’ Jonathan began.