‘Of course he is, pet.’ Sunday hurried over to her and forced a watery smile. ‘We just have to get him to hospital so the doctors there can make him better, so you run along to Cissie, eh?’

Seeing the blood that had seeped through the blanket, Kitty began to cry. She could still clearly remember how upset they had all been when Zillah had died, and now she was terrified that Tom was going to die too.

‘But I want to go to the hospital with him,’ she wailed, afraid to let him out of her sight. Tom was the nearest thing to a father that she had ever known.

Ben and George had already lifted the door on which Tom was still lying and as they strode out to the car with it, it was all Sunday could do to persuade Kitty to let them do what had to be done.

‘Come on now, sweetheart,’ she encouraged chokily as Kitty clung to her blood-stained skirts. ‘You wouldn’t want Tom to go to the hospital without me, would you? I need you to stay here and be brave for me and I’ll tell you what’s happening when I get back, I promise.’

Thankfully, Cissie appeared then and after gentle coaxing led the distraught child away to the kitchen. One of Mrs Cotton’s fresh-baked scones always made everything seem better.

Meanwhile, oblivious to the state she was in, Sunday lifted her skirts, snatched up a coat and chased after Ben and George.

It was late that evening when she returned home to Treetops Manor looking pale and drained. Cissie and the staff were waiting for her.

‘How is he?’ they all chorused as she stepped through the door.

‘Well, his leg has been set and he’s been stitched up,’ she was able to inform them. ‘Now we just have to pray that he doesn’t get an infection. The surgeon said it was one of the worst breaks he had ever seen.’

‘Right, we’d best get something hot inside you,’ Mrs Cotton said bossily, taking matters into her own hands. ‘I’ve got a nice pan of beef stew and dumplings keeping warm for you. And I don’t want no excuses, mind. If you don’t eat we’ll end up with two invalids on our hands.’

Knowing it would be pointless to argue, Sunday nodded before asking Cissie, ‘How is Kitty? She was very upset when we left.’

Cissie, who was keen to get back to Primrose Cottage now that she knew there was no more she could do, shrugged. ‘Frightened and tearful, but she’ll be fine. Children are a lot more resilient than you think. Soon as she knows he’s on the mend you can take her to visit him and she’ll be right as rain. But now if there’s nothing you need, I’d best be off. George took Johnny over to the cottage some time ago. They’ll think I’ve got lost.’ She pecked Sunday on the cheek then and hurried away as Sunday reluctantly went to face her beef stew. Eating was the last thing on her mind.