‘Whatever can we do now?’ I said, miserably.

‘Come to the Hall tomorrow morning. Ma will be out, so we can talk. Bring Jimmy.’

Of course, the news reached Blackman. Soon after supper the doorbell rang and he was on our doorstep. I showed him into Pa’s study and lurked outside the door, trying to overhear what was being said. Before long, I was summoned.

Both men were still on their feet. My father’s normally pale face seemed to have taken on a tinge of puce.

‘Henry here has been telling me about the petition you’ve been circulating,’ he began, ‘about the plan to find Eli a council house. This is confidential church business, for goodness’ sake. Why didn’t you ask me first, Molly?’

‘Because you would have stopped us,’ I said, wishing Kit was with me, and cursing myself for not being better prepared for this moment. Here was my big opportunity to tell Blackman the truth, but somehow the words wouldn’t come. Pa sighed and sat down heavily on his desk chair.

Blackman filled the silence. ‘I understand that you and Christopher Waddington have been fomenting unrest in the village.’ What a pompous idiot; we were hardly starting a revolution. ‘I think I have the right to see this so-called petition, if you don’t mind.’

Actually I did mind, and wasn’t about to admit that we’d failed to gather a single signature. ‘When it is complete,’ I said, feeling braver by the minute. Kit would have been proud of me. ‘You will of course see it, when we have spoken to everyone in the village.’

There was a knock on the door. Pa ignored it. The knock came again.

‘What is it?’ he said, irritably.

The door opened and Jimmy walked in, bold as brass, without waiting for permission. ‘Want to help Eli. My friend,’ he said simply, without a single stutter. Pa stood there, astonished, and seeing my brother being so bold and determined only galvanised me further.

‘We both think that trying to make Eli move out of his hut is unfair and wrong. He’s been there ten years and, more to the point, he loves it there. He doesn’t want to go into a council house, and he would be miserable without the trees, his birds, his woods.’

I stared right at Blackman, but he seemed unable or unwilling to meet my gaze. His eyes strayed to the floor, out of the window or at Pa, as though he didn’t want to accept that what I was saying was the truth.