As she pushes open the kitchen door, a flash of blue-grey catches her eye and she pauses to watch a nuthatch fly from the apple tree to the silver birch. Suddenly she finds herself thinking of the wooden bird, so carefully carved and painstakingly painted, that sits upon the mantelpiece in her room. It has become lost amongst the detritus that has gathered on the shelf over the years and reminded of it now she resolves to tidy away the items that detract from its beauty. It is a gift she has overlooked for too long.

She calls a greeting to Muriel, who is standing at the table mashing potatoes. Hearing her voice, Tom charges in from the sitting room and barrels into her legs, flinging his arms around them, pressing his cheek against her thigh. She laughs, rubbing his back. She has made him stay in with Muriel today, but in truth she has missed his company.

She is washing her hands at the sink when Nora comes in, Ted following behind. He sweeps off his flat cap and makes his greetings. Gwen feels his eyes settle upon her a little longer than the rest, but for some reason she is reluctant to meet them so she busies herself lathering her hands. With all the day’s labours, her impromptu invitation of the night before had completely slipped her mind, and now, as she rinses the suds from her fingers, she experiences a niggling regret that it was made at all.

She has never felt Ted’s presence in her house before. He has been such a constant over the years that her father used to joke he was part of the furniture. He required no special treatment, no acknowledgement, he was just there – in the same way that Muriel was. But something has changed, Gwen realises, a seismic shift she can’t quite fathom and suddenly she is conscious of Ted’s every move, his every word. She can feel the intensity of his focus and her skin begins to crawl with it, as if some part of her has tuned in to him as one might tune a wireless to obtain a clearer signal. But Gwen does not feel comfortable with Ted’s broadcast – its underlying static conceals hints of a message she does not want to receive.

She is grateful for the distraction of Tom’s constant gabbling as they take their places around the hastily cleared table. Muriel ladles out the rabbit stew that has been incubating in the hay box all day rather than simmering away on the range using up precious fuel, and Gwen distributes the plates accordingly. Ted laughs at something the boy says and Tom grins with pleasure, but soon the laughing has turned to a coughing fit. The farmer pitches to the side to retrieve a grubby handkerchief from his trouser pocket. He uses it to smother the noise. Gwen sets a glass of water before him.