They had stopped walking and turned to face each other. ‘Ya mam stopped – right in front of us. She didn’t speak but sort of gestured with her hand that we should walk out behind the three of you. Just as if we were – well – family almost, or at the very least, close friends. And yet now . . .’

‘And yet now,’ Kate finished for him, ‘they don’t even speak to each other.’

Danny nodded and they resumed walking hand-in-hand until they came near to Brumbys’ Farm.

By silent, mutual consent, they let go of each other’s hand. As they reached the farm gate, Danny said, ‘We won’t tell ’em yet.’

‘No, let’s keep it our secret for a while.’

They looked at each other, seeing one another in a new way, a different way. Kate felt the thrill of excitement just below her ribs.

Danny loved her.

‘I’d best be off,’ he murmured, but made no move. ‘It is a bit late to go out on the boat now.’

‘Yes.’ But she too remained exactly where she was. ‘We got talking about other things, didn’t we?’

They were standing very still, just looking at each other.

‘How about Sunday afternoon then?’

‘Sunday?’ Kate murmured, absently.

‘The boat. We’ll go out on the boat on Sunday afternoon.’

‘Oh yes,’ Kate’s eyes glowed. ‘Sunday afternoon.’

‘Me want to come wiv you.’

On the Sunday afternoon after dinner, Lilian stood in front of Kate as she pulled on her boots.

Kate sighed but said levelly, ‘Not today. Another time, maybe.’

‘Where you goin’?’ the child persisted. At four years old, Lilian was an unattractive child with grey, expressionless eyes, mousey, straight hair and a sullen mouth that seemed always to be pouting. She was proving to be a sickly child – totally unlike her robust half-sister. Lilian was always catching cold and Esther was for ever fussing over her youngest chick; something Kate would never have believed possible.

To be fair, though, Kate thought, her mother had hardly ever needed to fuss over her, and on the only occasion when she had been really ill, well, she couldn’t fault her mother for the attention she had given her then. Even if it was guilt-based, Kate often thought, remembering the days following her return from the Lincoln school.

‘Yes – just where are you going?’ her mother asked now.

‘We’re going to try out the new engine in Danny’s boat – well, Mester Eland’s boat.’

‘Oh, that. I’ve heard enough about that these past weeks from ya father.’

Her stepfather’s face appeared from behind his newspaper. ‘Let me know how you get on. Get Danny to show you how to start it and how to steer . . .’