With all the stresses on our family last year, I imagined I’d lose Aunt first. But the winter was harsh and even though the days grew longer and some warmth returned, Father seemed to have lost all his strength. Of all the days to die he chose my birthday, tarnishing the day for the rest of my life. It was warm that morning, warm enough to go for a long walk with Marian after his body had been taken away.

He died in the night. I found him in his bed in the morning, looking surprised, a present for me wrapped next to his bed. I opened it to find a beautiful compass with a note: ‘For Anne, so you can always find your way home’.

Perhaps it was not Shibden that was my anchor but Father. His presence since my birth, unfaltering, a devotion to me, of sorts, always on my side. His generous soul that let us all find our own path, never judging, never questioning.

Marian seems unable to cope. She clings to Aunt and to Ann; I am left to watch on as the women mourn and I keep my own tears to myself. I now step into the breach and must remain strong for them. I am in charge.

It is all left to me now, excepting my aunt’s share. There are no more Lister men.

I am closer to what I wanted when I was young, to be the sole heir, the owner outright, the decision maker; but having it now feels hollow. If the last few years here had been different, perhaps I would feel more satisfied. If I had felt part of my class, accepted as a fellow landowner and businessman, if I’d been on committees as I should have been and not barred because of my sex, perhaps…

Now I have no place in society. They will not let me in. Even now, taking Father’s place as the official head of our estate, there is no place for me. They keep me locked out, as if I am a plague that will infect them all.

Ann assumes I am all confidence, but she does not see what it takes to stand in a room full of men. To ignore the jibes, the eyes on you, knowing that if they should decide, any one of them could snap my neck and have done and they would not be accountable for it, because they are the law, and any power we women have is merely in the hope that they respect us enough not to hurt us, or that they do not realise how fragile and weak we are.