‘Yes, I’m sure you’re eager to get back to him – I know I would be.’ Nora saunters to the cooler and sloshes in the milk. ‘Although I have to say, it wasn’t the fond reunion I’d been expecting.’

‘Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you.’ The girl has stretched Gwen’s patience like a rubber band and now it breaks. The words snap from her, sharp and stinging, leaving Nora looking so startled that Gwen is on the brink of apologising when the light from the doorway disappears.

‘A word. Now.’ Muriel glowers at Gwen.

‘How did you find out?’ Gwen asks as soon as they have left the building and retreated a safe distance from the Land Girl.

‘It’s all over the village,’ Muriel hisses, grabbing her arm. She marches her across the yard and pushes her into the barn. For the first time in her life, Gwen feels lost in the cavernous space. ‘You little fool.’

‘I’ve told him he can’t stay.’ Gwen spits like one of the feral cats that slink around the buildings. ‘How was I supposed to know he’d come back? He promised me, promised me faithfully that I would never see him again!’

‘I have never encountered a girl as soft-headed as you.’ Muriel folds her arms across her chest, fury etched upon her narrow features.

‘I don’t care what you say to me, Muriel. I did what I had to do to protect my child – I wasn’t about to have him labelled a bastard if he didn’t need to be – and I will do whatever is necessary to carry on protecting him now.’

‘Then why the devil are you trying to send Jack away?’ Muriel’s voice erupts, echoing through the barn. She glances nervously behind her, checking Nora is still safely ensconced in the milking parlour and that Tom hasn’t come to eavesdrop. She drives Gwen further into the pooling shadows, scattering a clutch of sparrows feeding on spilt grain in the corner. They flit across the rafters, objecting noisily.

‘He can’t stay, Muriel! For God’s sake … it’s not as if we were ever really married.’

‘But in the eyes of the law you are and that’s all that matters right now. Gordon Allingham is threatening to assert his rights as Tom’s father and, like manna from heaven, the one man who can stop him returns to you in the nick of time, and what do you want to do? You want to turf him out on his ear.’

‘What?’