‘Oh Katie, it’s so good to see you looking better.’ Bustling between pantry and the living-room table where they were to have dinner the moment Will Benson arrived on his carrier’s cart, Esther paused to give Kate a swift hug. As her mother disappeared into the pantry, Kate resumed laying the knives and forks on the table. Emerging once more, carrying a large oval dish for the beef which was still sizzling in the range oven, Esther said, ‘You’ll soon have to be thinking what you’re going to do, though. Do you want to go back to school here?’

Kate shook her head and then glanced at her mother, trying to gauge how what she wanted to tell her might be received. The young girl paused and took a deep breath. ‘I’d – like to take a job in town – in the biggest shop there, if I could have a bicycle to get to and from work. And then when classes start at the Evening Institute next autumn, I thought I might learn dressmaking and tailoring. And after that . . .’ Her words came faster, tumbling over each other in her enthusiasm.

‘You seem to have got it all planned.’ Her mother’s face – usually so transparent in its expressions – gave no indication of her thoughts. ‘Seems eminently sensible to me.’ Her stepfather looked round from behind his newspaper and smiled benignly on them both. Esther glanced at him briefly but then her gaze came back to rest on her daughter. Kate felt Esther’s scrutiny, but met her mother’s gaze squarely. Kate had plans – ambitions. Modest as they might be, the planning of them gave her a thrill of excitement in the pit of her stomach. But she desperately wanted her mother to approve of them.

Kate imagined herself sitting in a room very like Jonathan’s mother, Mrs Godfrey – in front of a sewing machine and creating beautiful garments for wealthy ladies. By working in a shop in town she would have the chance to handle and sell fine fabrics. At evening classes she could learn how to turn the fabric into lovely dresses and costumes.

She could hardly wait to begin.

She had now fully recovered from her illness and the terrible experience she had suffered. Her hair had grown a little but at least it was now expertly cut into a neat style and curled prettily around her face. Her complexion was still a little pale for the winter months had not allowed her to be out of doors as much after her illness as she would normally have been, but now her green eyes were shining with excitement at her plans.

Then suddenly her mother was smiling. ‘I agree with yar dad. They are sensible plans. I’ll have a word with Miss Davenport who works at that big drapery shop, if ya like. She’s always been so helpful when I’ve gone in there.’