‘I didn’t want to see your Aunt Min,’ said Dad. ‘I never could stand that woman.’

‘What . . . ?’ Mud-spattered and breathless, she stood there and gaped at him. Dad had never had much time for her, and now here he was, in ruddy Yorkshire. ‘You mean you came all the way up here to see me? Why?’

Dad let out a sigh. The rain was battering them, drenching them to the skin. Distantly, Dora could still hear Min’s Hoover going.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s find somewhere dry or we’ll both freeze to fucking death.’

They huddled in one of the barns where the grain gathered in the harvest was piled high. A black and white cat stalked past, intent on its job of keeping the vermin off the crop. They stood, father and daughter, just inside the door of the barn and looked out as the sheeting rain turned the moors to a mist-shrouded pastel green.

‘Are you going to tell me, then? What this is all about?’ asked Dora.

It was difficult, talking to Dad. She felt shame wash over her at her condition. She knew what he thought about that. She also knew what he thought about her. That she was spoiled, ruined, beyond any hope of salvation.

Wish he’d tell Aunt Min that, she thought with a thin flash of humour. Then maybe she’d stop dragging me off to church.

Dad was looking at her and shaking his head. ‘To think it’s come to this,’ he said mournfully.

‘Dad . . .’ She didn’t know what to say. She was a disappointment to him. For the first time ever, she fully absorbed that, allowed herself to actually feel it, and was crushed into silence.

‘You know what I reckon, girl?’ he said quietly. ‘Your mum showed you too much love, and I showed you too little. That’s what I think. We got it wrong. The result was, you’ve gone to the bad.’

Dora said nothing; she was afraid that if she spoke, she’d cry. Seeing her dad so unexpectedly, she’d had a revelation. She’d always craved Dad’s affection and he had never given it. So she had looked elsewhere, to other men. First Dickie. Then Frank. Oh Christ, it was true. All she had ever wanted was her dad to love her, and he hadn’t, and the whole mess of her life was down to that.

‘Lil turned out well enough. She’s a coper and by God don’t she need to be with that deadleg she’s married to. June? She’s a bitter little thing, and that’s down to you, I reckon. Let’s hope you do better with yours, when it’s born,’ he said, indicating with a nod of the head her swollen belly. ‘Lil says you want to keep it. The brass neck of you, Dora. Well, not under my roof. Never. I hope we got that clear.’

Dora took a gasping breath in. He was turning his back on her. As usual. That hardened her resolve, made her gulp back her tears and look him straight in the eye. ‘What are you doing here, Dad? Really?’