‘It were a grand day, all right,’ Cissie said, in a wobbly voice. ‘I can still see you both now with all the lanterns that were strung in the trees and the moon shinin’ down on you. You looked like a fairy princess in your beautiful gown and Tom looked like the happiest man on earth. It’s a precious memory that no one can ever take away from you; you must hang on to that.’

And then they saw the black hearse approaching down the drive, coming to collect Tom, who had been lying in the day room in his coffin. She said sadly, ‘Come on, pet, it’s almost time to go.’

Without a word, Sunday turned and followed her from the room.

It was with relief some hours later that Cissie escorted the last of the mourners to the front door, leaving only the solicitor who had stayed to read Tom’s will to the family.

Sunday was waiting for him in the drawing room along with Ben, Livvy and Kathy.

Cissie turned towards Mr Dixon and, without a word, led him into the room then left, closing the door quietly behind her.

‘Before I begin, may I offer my condolences to you all?’ Mr Dixon said quietly, as he rummaged in his briefcase and produced Tom’s will. ‘Mr Branning was a true gentleman and I know he will be sorely missed by all that knew him. I have never seen so many people attend a funeral before. But now, down to business.’ He cleared his throat and began. ‘This is the last will and testament of Thomas Branning. It is all very straightforward, short and to the point, but should you have any questions, please feel free to interrupt me.’

Ben leaned forward in his seat.

‘To Cissie and George Jenkins, my long-term friends, I leave the cottage in the grounds in which they have resided for many years, with my thanks for their friendship, loyalty and support. To my only son, Ben, I leave my gold Hunter pocket watch. To my two beautiful daughters I leave all my love always. Treetops, the business, and all the rest of my worldly goods I leave to my beloved wife, Sunday Branning.’

Ben looked shocked as he leaned even further forward in his chair. ‘But surely there’s some mistake,’ he said, as colour rose in his cheeks. ‘Isn’t it customary for the eldest son to inherit?’

Mr Dixon shook his head. ‘In years gone by it would have been,’ he answered. ‘But times are changing, and it is quite usual now for the first person in a marriage to pass away to leave what they own to their spouse.’

Ben’s lips set in a grim line and, without a word, he rose and marched from the room. No one seemed to notice. Livvy and Kathy were too busy crying, and Sunday seemed trapped in a world of her own.