Will sniffed and muttered gruffly, ‘I’m sorry, Millie, I meant nowt. But I’m fair worried about her. She’s ill. And I’d like to lay me ‘ands on who’s cut all her lovely hair off. That Ah would!’

Millie Raby’s curiosity overcame her pique. ‘So you do know her then?’

‘Aye, I do,’ Will said shortly and then added, ‘She is me grand-daughter. She’s Esther Everatt’s daughter.’

Mrs Raby gave a gasp of surprise. ‘Esther . . . Well, I nivver! Esther Everatt! Esther’s bastard, is she?’

‘No, she’s not,’ Will’s voice thundered, almost shaking the sofa where Kate lay. ‘Esther was married a good year afore this little lass was born.’

‘Well, I was just remembering about Esther an’ how she left this village all sudden-like . . .’

‘Well, ya can stop remembering and putting two and two together and mekin’ five. Help me get the lass into me cart. I’m tekin’ her home where she belongs. An’ this time she’ll stay there, else Ah’ll know the reason why!’

The woman gave a low chuckle. ‘Well, Will Benson, they ses as how ya reap what ya sow. It looks to me as if ya wild oats from years back have brought you a bitter harvest.’

‘That’s where ya wrong, Millie Raby. Wild oats I might ‘a sown, but if this little lass is me harvest I couldn’t have asked for a greater blessing.’

Kate heard the words of their strange conversation but in her weakened state had no way of knowing if it was all part of her delirium. She was only blissfully aware that her grandfather was here and she was safe, and that he was picking her up tenderly and laying her in blankets in the back of his cart.

‘Thank ’ee, Millie. Ah’ll not forget ya help this day.’

‘Eh, Will . . .’ Kate saw the woman put her hand on his arm for a moment. ‘We’ve been neighbours for more years than I care to remember, and I know I’m a nosey old beezum,’ she cackled with laughter at the insult to herself, ‘but ya secret’s safe with me, I promise.’

Through the haze of her drowsiness, Kate heard her grandfather’s chuckle. ‘Aye, ya not such a bad old stick at that, Millie Raby.’

‘Get away wi’ ya and get yon lass home.’

This time, despite the rattling of the cart and warm and cosy in a mound of blankets, Kate did sleep, only rousing now and then to call to her grandfather. ‘Are we there yet, Grandad?’

‘Not far, lass, not far now.’

‘Is Danny there, Grandad?’

A pause and then he answered, ‘Aye, Danny’ll be there.’

‘I can’t eat the gooseberries, Grandad. Dun’t mek me eat the gooseberries.’

‘What’s that you say, lass, I dun’t understand you . . .?’