They sat in silence for several moments while Danny sifted sand into little heaps and then flattened them with the palm of his hand, only to begin the process over again. ‘Does . . .?’ he began and then stopped.

‘What?’

‘Does Mester Godfrey want you to go?’

‘Me dad?’

‘He’s yar stepdad,’ Danny reminded her pointedly.

‘I know, but he’s like a proper dad.’

Danny looked up. ‘But ya remember yar real dad, dun’t ya?’

Kate wrinkled her smooth forehead. ‘Sort of. In – bits.’

They sat in silence, each trying to remember Kate’s father. But their memories were fragmented, like a jigsaw with pieces missing.

‘I can just remember him coming back from the war,’ Danny said. ‘He was in a terrible state, wasn’t he?’

‘Can’t remember that. But I do remember him tekin’ us to town in his motor car to buy a big Christmas tree off the market.’

Danny was laughing. ‘Oh, yes – we could hardly get it in your back door. I’d forgotten.’

There was another silence before Danny said softly, ‘I remember his funeral though – after he drowned.’

‘You held my hand when we stood at the side of the hole.’ She shuddered. ‘I remember that all right. Wish I could forget it, sometimes.’ She frowned. ‘We threw something on top of the coffin, didn’t we? What was it – flowers?’

Danny shook his head. ‘Just earth.’

Another silence.

Kate hugged her knees. ‘Then Mr Godfrey came and married me mam and we all lived happily ever after.’ She pulled a wry face. ‘At least, till Lilian was born.’

‘Came back, ya mean,’ Danny muttered.

‘Who came back? Me dad?’

‘Mr Godfrey – yeah.’

‘What d’ya mean – came back?’

‘It was just – summat I heard me dad say once.’

‘What?’

Danny said nothing.

‘Come on, Danny, tell me,’ Kate insisted. She scrambled up and grasped his shoulders, shaking him. ‘Tell me or I’ll . . .’

He caught hold of her arms and they struggled with each other like a pair of playful puppies, just as they always had throughout their childhood. Kate shrieked with laughter, her anguish forgotten for the moment as they rolled over and over, her petticoat flying, her black stockings wrinkling around her ankles. Danny was on top of her, pinning her arms back against the sand. They stared into each other’s eyes, panting hard, their breath mingling.

Faintly, borne on the wind, there came the sound of a whistle. Immediately, Kate began to struggle. ‘Let me up, Danny. That’s me grandad coming. I’ll go and meet him. He’ll not let me mam send me away. He’ll tell her!’