‘No!’ There is anger edging his voice now. ‘I don’t want to talk about this any further, Jack. I will not give you my blessing.’ He pauses, relenting. ‘I’m just asking you to wait. I’m not saying never – you’re a solid chap, Jack, she could do a lot worse than you. Wait, that’s all I’m asking. Now take these crates inside to the girls, will you?’ He starts to climb the short ladder resting against the tree behind him. ‘We’d best get on, get these apples in before the wasps get them.’

Jack searches for words of persuasion, but he cannot find them. He has laid his heart bare and revealed more than he has ever dared reveal to Gwen, and yet he has been thwarted. He tries to stifle his anxiety as he thinks of the secret hidden deep inside her – a secret that cannot be concealed for much longer. His failure pains him.

The stacked crates are heavy as he lugs them through the back door. Gwen is standing at the kitchen table wrapping apples in newspaper, ready for storage in the cellar. She looks up and sees at once the apology on his face. The colour drains from her cheeks.

‘He said no.’ It is barely more than a whisper; Jack could weep for letting her down.

‘Who said no – to what?’

Muriel stands in the hall doorway newly returned from the cellar, an empty crate hanging from a hand smudged with newsprint. Her beady eyes dart between them. She tilts up her chin, her nose twitching to detect the stink of collusion, hidden beneath the sweet mustiness of apple.

‘Come on, let’s have it.’ Her manner is as sharp as a paring knife. She means to cut out their secrets.

‘Jack and I … we …’

Jack moves to Gwen’s side. ‘I asked Jim for Gwen’s hand and he said no. That is, he said we have to wait … until after the war.’

‘He said no, did he?’ Muriel’s mouth pinches with displeasure. She thrusts the empty crate into the vacant space on the table. ‘Stupid bugger. You leave this to me – I’ll sort it out.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Gwen follows her to the door.

Muriel glowers at her. ‘I’m going to tell him exactly why you cannot wait.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’