Drew stood in the doorway, watching her bend over the handsewing with total concentration, oblivious of everything but her task. ‘You’re back.’ She looked up and smiled at him then realised it was the wedding dress in her hands. ‘Shut your eyes, don’t look, it’s bad luck!’ Netta fumbled to clear away the dress.

‘Dinna fash yerself, hen,’ he mimicked. ‘The wedding’s off, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh, Drew, I’m sorry,’ she lied until she remembered all those unpaid hours of work on the gown. As if reading her thoughts and her panic, he raised his hand. ‘Don’t worry, all bills will be honoured. You won’t be out of pocket.’ He lifted up the dress. ‘Is this it?’ She nodded. ‘It’s terrible… I feel sick just looking at the colour. I hate pink.’

‘So do I,’ confessed Netta with a wry glimmer of a smile. ‘What happened?’

‘Fancy a stroll and some fresh air?’

They walked on top of the ridge overlooking the Wharfe valley. It was clear and Netta could see for miles. A skylark babbled above them. Lapwings dived and twisted in the fields where the fat lambs nestled with the ewes. Drew had told her about the quarrel and its aftermath. ‘It’s all your fault, you know.’

‘What have I done now?’

‘Got me back on the wagon. After Arthur died I was shaken up. I knew I couldn’t spend the rest of my life hiding in a bottle. If alcohol is your weakness it will always be your weakness so I wanted to see if I could cut down. I even had a session with a trick cyclist friend of mine and he put me straight on how to go about it. Now I like waking up in the morning with a clear head and not a doormat for a tongue. I like that rinsed out, fresher feeling. I sound like a toothpaste advert but it’s the little things you notice. Ginnie and I moved in boozy circles and once I stepped away from them, I could see more clearly that we had nothing in common any more. She’s mad as hell with me but she’ll survive.’

‘What’ll you do?’

‘Stay where I am for a while, but I want to do some more study. I’m interested in new research stuff coming out about the effects of separation on children. I think it’s going to be important work. I’m reading up my psychology theory again and there are lectures in London I can attend. Just a hunch but working with the POWs opened my mind. There’s so much going on under the surface of people’s lives we don’t understand yet. It intrigues me. That’s a start, I suppose. One step at a time. Who was this precious doctor who gave you all these sayings?’