Lucy is of no help. She continues to try to change my mind and, I am sure, offers Angus hope behind my back. I cannot blame the poor man. When one is no longer in one’s twenties, the options narrow. And in a town like this, they are limited to begin with. Lucy, being a few years younger than I, is perhaps too young for him. Mrs Bridges, far too many years his senior, and Peggy’s sister, Grace, is newly engaged to a man from Sydney. Ruling out children, the elderly and the already married, I guess it leaves me. His only choice. I am sure if there were any other suitably available women, he would not look in my direction at all.

Of course Joan has weighed in on the matter. It is not proper for a woman to be without a husband, she insists. What will people say? What kind of example am I setting for the young ladies of the town? Though I am sure in her mind they were rhetorical questions, I did however answer.

‘I suspect the young girls of town could not care less whether I am single or married, and if they did then I am glad I am showing them it is perfectly fine to be independent of a man. Far better to be without a man than with the wrong one.’

I know, my love, it was wicked of me to say such a thing to her. Anyone with half a brain can see her marriage was never one of sunshine and rainbows. Not that any of us would dare say such a thing directly.

Father came to visit last weekend. On his own. Imagine my joy. Mother had some crucial engagement she simply could not get out of. He has never come to see me alone before. Never been allowed to. I wonder why he was not pressed to attend whatever social event she found so important. Perhaps it had nothing to do with the university and therefore his tweed learnedness was of no use to her.

Whatever the reason, I am glad for it. I cannot remember the last time Father and I had such a chance to talk.

He looks ten years younger when he speaks of his studies but appears very weary when Mother comes up in conversation. I stopped bringing her up within the first half-hour of his visit.

We spoke of a great many things, but what surprised me were his questions of you. What you were like as a man, as a husband; what your interests were. Everything there was to know about you. I showed him the pictures taken that summer before you left. He commented on how strong and handsome you looked. I was inclined to agree. You would have got on exceptionally well, had you been allowed to meet. I shall never forgive Mother for keeping the people I love apart.