‘Again? But it’s only a couple of months since he put you in charge of a department. Ya’ll be manageress of the whole shop soon,’ he teased, but he was smiling as he said it.

‘He wants me to go into the sewing room – as supervisor. Miss Poole’s retiring.’

‘But what about the other girls already there? Their noses’ll be out o’ joint if you’re put in over ’em?’

Kate sniffed. ‘Quite likely,’ she said shortly.

She felt Danny’s glance on her. ‘Ya’re a hard one, Kate Hilton, when it’s summat ya want.’

She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling mischievously. ‘Me? Hard? I’m an old softy and you know it.’

She didn’t confide – not even to Danny – that her unfortunate experience at the school in Lincoln had left her with a sliver of ice in her heart. Never again would she allow herself to be treated as she had been then. Whilst outwardly she was friendly with everyone she met, only with a very few people would she ever drop her guard completely; maybe only with Danny and Rosie Maine.

‘Will it mean more money?’ he was saying.

‘Danny Eland!’ She pretended indignation. ‘Is that all you can say? Here I am with news of a promotion and all you can think of is money!’

During the four years at Reynolds’ Kate had been a quick and eager junior under Miss Davenport’s kindly tutelage. Now, at only seventeen, she was in charge of the haberdashery department with a young, gauche school-leaver under her wing. Kate still rode between work and home on her bicycle along the Point road and, just as she had planned, by attending evening classes in Lynthorpe, she was learning dressmaking and tailoring.

It seemed that she possessed a natural talent and before long she had begun to bring home tiny garments for Lilian, and blouses and skirts for herself and her mother from her classes.

‘I can see I’ll soon be handing over me sewing machine to you,’ her mother had laughed, but there had been pride in her voice. Esther was a fine seamstress, but all her knowledge had come from the aunt who had brought her up. Now she watched with interest as Kate tried out all that she was learning from a professional tailoress. The front parlour at Brumbys’ Farm was becoming cluttered with paper patterns and pins and lengths of material.

‘Just like home,’ Jonathan would tease her fondly, and Kate was reminded once more that it had been the sight of Mrs Godfrey’s front room that had sown the seed of ambition in her.

Now Danny was grinning at her, quite unabashed by her pique. ‘I was thinking of you being able to save for your bottom drawer.’

‘Me – me bottom drawer?’

‘Yeah – isn’t that what girls call it when they’re going to get married?’

‘Going to – to get – married?’