Slipping the letter into the pocket of her wrap-around apron, Kate said firmly, ‘No, and I don’t want him to know either.’ She saw Mavis open her mouth to say something more, but before she could do so, Kate linked her arm through hers and pulled her back into the living room. ‘Come on, Auntie Mavis, it’s time you nursed your god-daughter.’

Mavis’s eyes widened. ‘God-daughter? You mean – you mean you want me to be her godmother?’ Her face was growing pink with pleasure.

Kate smiled at her. ‘Yes, you and Iso, if you will. And Peggy too.’

‘Oh, I’d love it. I’ve never been a godmother.’ She paused, then asked, ‘Er, aren’t you supposed to have two godmothers and one godfather for a girl?’

The smile faded from Kate’s face. ‘Yes,’ she nodded, ‘but there’s only one person I would want as her godfather – and – and he’s not here just now.’

‘You – you mean – Danny?’

Kate’s voice was a whisper, ‘Yes.’

‘Oh. Oh, I see,’ Mavis murmured. It was obvious that her friend did not see at all. In fact she was more perplexed than ever. Kate watched Mavis looking down at the child in Isobel’s arms, her forehead creased and chewing the side of her thumb. Kate could almost read the thoughts running through Mavis’s mind. Kate had been in love with Danny Eland, but he had married someone else. They believed Kate and Philip Trent had been lovers, yet when her child was born, Kate had called her Danielle and now she was admitting that the only man she would want as a godfather was Danny Eland. It was all too much for Mavis to take in.

It was exactly what Kate wanted, although she felt a little guilty at deliberately trying to turn away suspicion from Philip and back on to Danny.

Later, in the privacy of her bedroom, Kate read Philip’s letter. It was carefully worded so that to the uninformed eye, it would be a friendly letter from a superior officer to his one-time driver for whom he had an affectionate regard. But to Kate there were hidden references that told her his feelings had not changed.

‘ . . . I expect Lincolnshire is looking a little wintry at the moment – no fields of rippling ripe corn . . . My current driver is not nearly so efficient at changing a wheel in the dark . . .’

He remembered everything that had happened and between the lines, Kate could detect his longing for her. There was a paragraph in which there was more than a hint of anxiety. ‘I have written twice before, but have not had a reply from you. Perhaps you did not get the letters?’ No, she had not received his letters and had begun to think his silence meant the end of their affair. And then came his final words.