In the bedroom Agnes mopped Ruby’s forehead with a damp flannel. ‘Now then, Ruby luv,’ she said, ‘ah think this one might be comin’ a bit quicker.’ Ruby groaned and began to breathe fast. Her contractions were already getting stronger, longer and closer together.

‘Oh Mam, it ’urts,’ she gasped as she gripped her mother’s hand.

‘Don’t worry, luv – ah’m ’ere.’

When Lily walked into the staff-room the student teacher had already arrived and had introduced herself to John and Vera. It was clear that they both approved of this enthusiastic and purposeful young woman.

‘Hello, Lily,’ said John. ‘This is Anne Watson, our student from the college in Ripon.’ Anne was a tall, slim brunette, twenty years old and lissom in her movements. From the outset Lily recognized she was keen to succeed.

‘Welcome to Ragley,’ said Lily, ‘and I shall do my best to help. Feel free to ask any questions.’

‘I need to get to know the children,’ Anne said, ‘and confirm my timetable. Then I have to prepare my lessons over the Easter break and present them to my tutor, Miss Trimble.’

‘You will be working with the children in my class,’ said Lily, ‘and they’re hard-working and responsive. The summer term will give us the opportunity to do some work outdoors. This is a wonderful place, with the woods, fields and animals. We need to make use of them.’

John was listening intently. ‘As well as learning our tables and handwriting,’ he interjected.

Anne got the message. ‘Of course … and Miss Trimble would expect nothing less.’

John smiled. He knew Miss Trimble. Her nickname of the Ripon Rottweiler was appropriate for this fierce lady.

‘Let’s go into the classroom,’ said Lily.

Anne picked up her bulky satchel of children’s books and a cumbersome ring-binder of lesson notes.

That was when Lily noticed the ring on the third finger of her left hand.

The arrival of a breathless Ronnie attempting to hammer down his door was something Dr Davenport took in his stride. He asked his wife, Joyce, to telephone the local midwife, then he picked up his black bag and hurried out of the house. As always, Joyce was calm. A friend of Vera’s since their school days, she was already admired in the local Women’s Institute for the excellence of her sponge cakes and her cold-cure remedies.

Dr Davenport and the midwife, Eileen Goodbody, a buxom, no-nonsense Yorkshirewoman for whom childbirth was like shelling peas, arrived at 7 School View at the same time and set to work in the blink of an eye. Agnes was reassured and answered their calls for hot water and clean towels while keeping an eye on young Andy.

Ronnie remained downstairs in the kitchen, chain smoking and gagging for a pint of Tetley’s. ‘Another bloody mouth t’feed,’ he muttered.