She took a last look around the big bedroom that had been hers alone until now, for only last night her mother had talked of moving the baby into the big room, ‘Now that Kate will only be home in the holidays’.

So, already it was no longer ‘her’ room. Kate’s glance roamed over her well-loved toys; the rocking horse standing in the corner, forlorn and neglected for Kate had long since outgrown him. No doubt Lilian would soon be big enough to ride him again and she’d soon have her fingers into all Kate’s other toys too; the doll with the china face, the wooden doll’s house her stepfather had made for her. The whole of the front opened in two big doors revealing four rooms, hallway and landing. Two miniature pot dolls inhabited the house and the tiny furniture was all made to scale.

The girl turned away and went downstairs feeling strange and awkward in her new school uniform; a long-sleeved winceyette blouse with a tie in the school colours of brown and gold and a brown pleated gym-slip falling straight from her shoulders to just below her knee. The matching braid girdle tied around the waist made her feel bulky and shapeless.

‘I feel like a sack of ’tates tied round the middle,’ she muttered gloomily. Thick brown woollen stockings held up by suspenders buttoned on to a Liberty bodice made her legs hot and in her sturdy winter boots her feet were sweating.

At the bottom of the stairs she turned to the right and went into the best parlour with its plush chairs and polished brass fender. An organ stood in the corner, but no one ever played it. In the middle of the floor her trunk stood open all neatly packed and ready to be closed when the last-minute things had been added.

Her mother had been sewing for weeks making blouses, pyjamas and even the serge gym-slip. ‘Three of everything!’ Esther had exclaimed when the list had arrived. ‘I can’t afford them fancy prices to be buying all ya need ready made. My sewing’s as good as anyone’s – I’ll have to make as many things as I can.’

Now everything was packed in a huge trunk ready to be loaded into the trap. Her stepfather was to drive Kate and her mother to the station in Lynthorpe where they would catch the train to Lincoln. ‘Be sure to get a porter to organize taking her trunk up to the school when you get to Lincoln,’ he told them.

‘I don’t need to be tipping no porter to carry something we can carry oursens . . .’ her mother began indignantly.

‘Esther,’ Jonathan said quietly, ‘it won’t look good at the school. Believe me. If you want your daughter to become a “young lady”, she’s got to start acting like one.’