‘Morning, Annie. Do you have news?’

‘I do. It is good news. The lawyers have had no instructions from my husband before he died to hand the mill over to Clegg. Your job is safe.’

Alfred Johnston clasped his hands together and beamed. ‘Thank you, Annie, thank you. That you have done this for me, in your time of grief and mourning, is too kind.’

‘I have a small favour to ask of you, in return.’

‘Anything, Annie.’

‘Can you can find Blind Mattie for me and give this back to her? Today if possible.’ She handed the cloth to him and he peered down at it.

‘That’s one of the mill worker’s darning needles.’

‘It’s Mattie’s. I want her to have it back. You are nearer Lochee than I am.’

‘Aye, I can do that,’ he said, taking the cloth. ‘But why do you have it?’

‘She gave it to me, I had forgotten it was still in my possession.’

‘Oh, sorry to ask, Annie, but d’you have my handkerchief? I had to tell Bettie I left mine at the mill. It was one she embroidered for me, special.’

‘It is inside, being laundered. I shall have it sent to the mill.’ She turned upon hearing a noise. ‘I must go. Goodbye, Alfred.’ She swept back over the lawn and reached the front door just as Baxter crunched slowly over the gravel towards the back gate.

* * *

‘Mamma, may I get down from the table please? I am doing a special drawing in the nursery. It’s of our house and I am trying to get the pillars at the front door just right.’

‘Of course, dear boy. What did Pappa call them?’

‘Ionic.’

‘That’s it.’ Ann beckoned to her son with a smile. ‘Come and give your Mamma a kiss.’

James slunk towards his mother. ‘The twins say it’s not right to do kisses now I am ten.’

Ann shook her head. ‘What the Donaldsons do is their business. In this house we show each other how very much we love each other.’ She ruffled her son’s hair then planted a kiss on his head.

‘Pappa never kissed me.’

‘Nor me,’ said Lizzie, putting down her spoon with a clunk.

‘Your Pappa is – was – never a man to show his emotions. But I am sure he loved you, in his own way.’

She must say nothing against him; she must forever be the grieving widow and loving wife.

‘That black hat pudding was very good,’ said Lizzie as she clambered onto her mother’s lap.

Ann pulled Lizzie’s dainty satin slippers off. ‘Black cap pudding, darling girl,’ she said, tickling her feet.

‘The rain’s stopped, Mamma. Can we go out later? Please?’

‘No, I would prefer if you stay at home this afternoon.’

‘But Mamma, we had to stay in the nursery all morning, you always say fresh air’s good and…’