Gwen does not seem relieved. Indeed, as the week has progressed Jack has noticed how quiet she has become. He has also noticed the leaden looks she exchanges with Muriel whenever Saturday is mentioned and the shallow frown that appears like fretwork on her brow.

‘You do the milking this afternoon as normal, and I’ll come and help Jack clean up after. How’s that? Will that be time enough?’

‘I’ll put the copper on for you, so you can have a bath when you come in.’ Muriel half-turns from the stove where she is frying off some beef for a casserole.

Gwen’s expression of gratitude strikes Jack as half-hearted.

They spend the day sowing peas in the field which Jack himself harrowed the day before. He was powerless to hide his pleasure when he finished the task, with both Jim and Gwen approving his efforts.

‘I’m going to have to scrub like mad to get this mud out of my nails,’ Gwen says to him later, examining her grimy fingers as they go together to bring the cattle in for milking. ‘Jack … tonight … could you try and make sure Dad doesn’t get too carried away in the pub?’

‘Is he likely to?’

She throws a glance to the horizon, sending it on its way with a slight shrug of her shoulders. ‘I can trust you to look out for him, can’t I?’

‘He’s a grown man, Gwen …’

‘Can’t I?’

‘Of course.’

She tries to muster a smile, but it wilts on her lips like a parched flower.

‘What exactly is it you’re worried about, Gwen?’

She tips her head back. The breeze ruffles the loose strands of hair that have escaped the scarf knotted at the base of her skull.

‘I’m just being foolish … I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,’ she says at last. ‘Nothing at all.’

Gwen is uncharacteristically quiet as she finishes the milking. When Jim appears to take over the cleaning up, she offers again to remain at home for the evening.

‘Go away with you!’ Jim protests, snatching up the broom. ‘After you’ve spent all that time making a new dress? Gwen, there’s no need to be creating all this fuss, no need at all.’

‘But Dad …’

‘Enough, Gwen,’ he snaps, causing her to flinch. Jack pauses his sluicing of the floor. Jim gathers himself, his temper easing. ‘Go and get ready, Gwen. I want to see you all done up.’

He leans into the broom after she has gone. ‘Always fussing over me.’

Jack throws the remaining bucket of water over the stone and refrains from asking questions.

Muriel dishes up dinner, then removes her apron.