Danny banged the back of the spade against the sides of the castle, flattening the sand. Still he would not look at her again.

Rosie came back clutching several shells to her chest. ‘Where shall I put ’em, Danny?’

‘On the sides. Look – like this.’ He squatted down, and, taking a couple of the shells, he pressed them into the sand-castle.

For a moment Kate stood watching them, feeling excluded from their game.

‘I’ll – see you later.’

Danny nodded absently. ‘Yeah, see ya.’

Kate turned and began to run, her flying feet sending up little showers of sand as she went.

Back at Brumbys’ Farm she was set to work to help her mother cater for the party, running from house to front garden and back again so many times until sweat plastered strands of her long hair to her forehead.

‘So you’re Kate.’

She was standing before Mrs Godfrey, holding out a plate piled high with plum bread. Her stepfather’s mother was very smart to Kate’s idea. She wore a loose-fitting flowery dress with a full-length coat over it, the sleeves gathered with smocking just above the wrist. From beneath her close-fitting hat, two neat brown curls peeped out. Her shoes were dainty, with pointed toes and a T-bar strap across the top of her foot. Her complexion was pale, made more so by face-powder, and red lipstick accentuated her wide mouth.

The woman took a piece of the plum bread. ‘Is this all your mother’s baking?’ When Kate nodded, she added, ‘She’d make her fortune if she opened a shop in the High Street. What do you think, Peg?’

Jonathan’s sister nodded. ‘It’s lovely.’

Kate smiled at her. ‘I do like ya frock.’ She had been admiring the younger woman’s outfit ever since she had first seen Peggy and Mrs Godfrey in the church porch. The dress was low-waisted, the skirt knee-length and made in a blue silky material and was decorated with intricate embroidery. Kate longed to feel it. The cloche hat which Peggy wore, its brim almost hiding her eyes, was trimmed with flowers made out of the same material. She wore a long pearl necklace, one strand tight around her neck, the other dangling down almost to her waist.

‘Why, thank you, Kate,’ Peggy said in her soft voice.

Kate couldn’t take her eyes off the two women in their finery. In comparison, her mother’s long black skirt, reaching almost to her ankles, and her crisp, white blouse seemed plain.

‘Peggy works in one of the big stores in the High Street,’ Mrs Godfrey was saying with an obvious note of pride in her voice. ‘She spotted this fabric when it first came in and bought a length.’

Kate’s puzzled glance went from one to the other. Peggy smiled. ‘Mother’s a dressmaker, she made this dress and trimmed the hat.’

Kate gasped. ‘Did you mek them flowers?’ She pointed at the hat.