‘That’s good. Well, everyone’s fine here, if a little worried about all that’s happening in the world. That aside, the girls are looking forward to their new term at school, and Marjella has arrived safely. She’s very excited to be joining you in your language studies this term.’

‘I can’t wait to see her – it’s going to be wonderful having her here. I just wish this cloud wasn’t hanging over us all. Mum and Aunt Betsy are very nervous.’

‘I can understand that, as we older ones have vivid memories that heighten our fears.’ Aunt Mags sighed. ‘It’s unbelievable to think we’re on the brink of war breaking out again. But let’s not spoil your first day back with what a horrid little man in Germany is doing to the world. I’ve made lemonade for you all, and Cook has baked those shortbread biscuits you love.’

‘Mmm, lovely.’ Although she said this, Sibbie groaned inside. She was full to the brim with shortbread and, much as she liked it, she wouldn’t care if she never saw another biscuit in her life. It seemed everyone wanted to serve them to her: at home in Scotland, her mum and Aunt Betsy thought she would have missed their shortbread biscuits more than anything; and here in Blackburn with Aunt Mags, Cook seemed to think she couldn’t live without them! Sibbie smiled to herself at these thoughts, as they brought home to her how she was surrounded by the love of so many people.

And now her lovely cousin Marjie, as she called Marjella, was here from France to join her on the language course she was taking, which meant they were going to spend a lot of time together. Life couldn’t be better, and she prayed that all the fears of war would come to nothing.

As Sibbie followed her Aunt Mags through the wide hall of Feniscowles Manor she turned towards the kitchen. Opening the door, she called out, ‘Hello, Cook. Aunt Betsy sends her love.’

‘Sybil! You’ve arrived then, lass. I’d give you a hug, but I’m covered in flour. How is Betsy?’

‘Ha, that’s as it should be – I like to see that nothing has changed. Oh, Betsy is fine; they all are. I’ll give you their news later.’

A lovely rounded lady, Cook had been part of this house for as long as Sibbie could remember, and she loved the way Cook always used her proper name. She was the only one who did. Not that it mattered, because being called ‘Sibbie’ reminded her of Montel, who had first shortened her name.