‘All right,’ she agreed reluctantly.

‘Good!’ Sunday smiled. ‘Then let’s all get this lovely breakfast eaten and then we’ll be on our way.’

Over the next few minutes the piles of bacon, eggs and sausages disappeared at an alarming rate and when the meal was over Sunday ushered Kitty and Maggie upstairs to put their Sunday-best clothes on. Maggie’s coat and bonnet were made of a fine wool in a dark navy-blue colour, which suited her colouring, while Kitty’s were made in an identical wool and design in bright red that set off her dark eyes and hair to perfection.

‘There!’ Sunday sighed with satisfaction as she tied the ribbons of Kitty’s bonnet beneath her chin while Maggie stood to one side, scuffing her best shoes on the ground. ‘You both look beautiful. Now let’s go and see if Tom has brought the car around to the front, shall we?’

She took their hands and led them downstairs, one on either side of her, to find Tom standing proudly beside his new toy, explaining how it worked yet again to Ben, who was totally enthralled with it. It was a Daimler shooting brake, which had been manufactured in Coventry three years before.

‘It’s six horsepower, with twin cylinders and a four-speed gearbox,’ she heard Tom tell the boy as they peered in at the engine as if it was the best invention on earth. Then, spotting his wife, Tom grinned sheepishly. ‘Sorry, love. I was just running over a few things with Ben.’

Sunday said tartly, ‘I should think he knows it all by now, the amount of time you two spend playing with this contraption.’ She was secretly still rather afraid of it and much preferred the horse and trap, but Tom asked for so little that she hadn’t found it in her to deny him it.

Ben meanwhile had spotted Kitty, and bending down to her level, he chucked her under the chin, saying, ‘My, don’t we look smart today, eh? Off into town for a birthday treat, are we?’

Kitty nodded. She was clutching the small bird he had carved for her as a present for her birthday and his chest swelled with pride as he noticed. ‘Right, well, I hadn’t better hold you up.’ He glanced up at the grey sky. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t have snow sometime soon. I reckon I can smell it.’

Sunday gave him a playful punch on the arm. ‘Oh, you and your weather forecasting,’ she teased, although truthfully she was forced to admit that nine times out of ten he was right in his predictions. They then settled the two little girls into the back seat, placed a warm rug over their legs and seconds later they were whizzing off down the drive as Sunday hung on to her hat.

‘You’re looking rather lovely today, pet,’ Tom remarked, daring to take his eyes off the road for a moment to admire Sunday’s new outfit. The days of the crinoline were gone and now women were favouring a longer, straighter skirt, with a small train at the back.