‘Hang on a mo,’ came the carrier’s reproachful voice. ‘I’ve to be on me way. There’s me round to see to. I’ve come out o’ me way to bring her ‘ere as it is.’

‘Nathaniel Wallis, if this is some relation of Will Benson’s . . .’ The words hung in the air like a threat.

‘Aye, aye, all right, Millie, you win. I’d not like to get wrong side o’ Will Benson and no mistake.’ The man chuckled and Kate heard his footsteps leave the room.

‘Now, me little lass.’ The woman was bending over her, a rough kindness in her voice. ‘Let’s get you out o’ them wet things . . .’

In her delirium, Kate imagined it was Mrs Eland helping her out of her wet clothes after her soaking in the sea; Danny’s mother who was sponging her face, tucking a warm blanket around her and holding a mug of warm milk to her lips.

Then Danny would soon be home too . . .

‘Danny?’ she tried to ask and did not recognize her own feeble squeak of a voice.

‘There’s no Danny here, little lass,’ the woman said.

Kate opened her eyes and struggled to focus them. It was not Mrs Eland. Then where . . .?

‘Dun’t fret. Yar – Will Benson’ll soon be home.’

That was it, Kate thought dreamily. Her grandad. She had come to find her grandad.

It seemed only moments later that she heard his voice and then he was there kneeling beside the sofa and stroking her head and saying, ‘Oh, me little Katie, me little girl. What have they done to ya?’ And Kate knew she was safe at last.

She put her arms round his neck and felt his cool cheek against her hot forehead. ‘Ee lass, ya burning up.’

‘I’ve sponged her, Will, and made her drink, but she’s poorly. Reckon ya should get her home and tell her folks to get the doctor – ne’er mind the cost.’

‘Mebbe she’d better stay here . . .’

Kate gave a whimper at his words. ‘No, Grandad. Tek me home. Please – tek me home!’

‘All right, lass, all right.’ He turned to the woman. ‘She’ll be all right if we wrap her warm in blankets, won’t she?’

‘Well . . .’ The woman hesitated, reluctant to take responsibility, but as Kate’s eyes filled with tears she said, ‘I reckon she’ll mek ’ersen worse fretting if you dun’t tek her home, Will.’

Kate closed her eyes with thankfulness. Soon, soon she would be home. Above her, she heard the woman ask, ‘Just who is she, Will? She ses she’s yar grand-daughter. I thought she must be rambling, but now I ain’t so sure.’

‘You mind ya business, Millie Raby, and let me mind mine,’ came her grandfather’s sharp reply.

‘Oh, sorry I spoke, I’m sure. After I’ve looked after the little lass most o’ the afternoon an’ all.’