‘Come on, pet, we’ve been given our orders,’ Tom told her gently and with a jolt Sunday realised that he was right. Once downstairs, everyone crowded around them and as Sunday slowly unwrapped the coverings from the tiny body they all gasped. The baby was beautiful, a perfect little replica of her mother with violet-blue eyes and soft dark downy hair.

Cissie hurried away to fetch a bowl of warm water and a towel and once the child was washed and dried they dressed her in some of the tiny clothes they had laid out all ready.

‘She’s just so gorgeous,’ Cissie sighed. ‘Enough to make you feel broody.’ They all fell silent then, their thoughts centred on the soul who was fighting for her life upstairs. Very soon the infant was crying for her first feed and Cissie warmed some milk and fed her with the glass bottle they had ready in case of emergencies.

It was just before midnight when the drawing-room door opened and the doctor appeared looking tired and despondent. ‘I’m so very sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I did all I could but she just slipped away.’

It was well past midnight when Cissie had washed and changed Kitty and laid her stillborn son in her arms. They all walked noiselessly, one by one, into the bedroom to say their goodbyes. Strangely, Kitty looked more peaceful than she had for a long time and Sunday prayed that she was destined to go to a better place. Soon, the undertaker came to take her and the babe to the Chapel of Rest. Weary and heartbroken, no one wanted to go to bed. Instead, they congregated in the kitchen for yet another cup of tea.

Cissie and George had finally gone back to their cottage and the new baby was fast asleep in Sunday’s arms when Maggie suddenly remembered that Kitty had given something to her earlier on.

‘This is for you.’ She fished an envelope out of her pocket and handed it to Sunday. After passing the baby into Tom’s waiting arms Sunday slit it open.

Dear Sunday,

I have had a strange feeling for some time that I will not survive my baby’s birth and so I am writing this letter to hopefully secure his or her future just in case.

Should anything happen to me I humbly request that you and Tom will bring the baby up as your own child. I know how much you have always longed for a baby so in the event of my death this little soul will be my final gift to you. I know he or she will receive the love you showered on me and I hope that when you think of me in the future you will remember me fondly. Would you also kindly ensure that the locket that you gave to me on the day I left Treetops is passed on to my baby, please? It is my most treasured possession.