Concealing the anger that the child’s words had caused towards her husband, for his treatment of this beautiful little girl, Arabella said calmly, ‘Would you like me to ask him about that privately for you?’

Betsy nodded solemnly. ‘I think that would be best, don’t you?’

‘Then that is what I will do, my dear.’

A robin came to say hello, its bright red chest puffed out, and Betsy’s delight in the little bird coming so close brought the conversation to a natural end, but not before Arabella resolved to have the matter of her son marrying Rose out with her husband once and for all. It had driven a wedge between them for one thing, and for another she wasn’t going to have Betsy feeling uncomfortable in what was now her home. The wedding was in four days’ time; it was ridiculous William hadn’t come to terms with it before now.

Betsy was oblivious to the consternation she had unwittingly caused. She sat beside Arabella in the tranquil surroundings, happy with her lot. She was going to like living here, she decided. She hadn’t been very sure at first and it had all seemed to happen so quickly, but they had never had a garden before and now she had one of her very own. And she liked Alexander’s mam, even, she thought shyly, loved her. Alexander’s da was a different matter but she didn’t have to see much of him anyway. No, overall she was glad they were here and there was the wedding to look forward to when she would wear her beautiful dress, and then a holiday with her mam and her new da when they’d go on trains and ships and see the seaside.

The robin flew off but they sat on in the scented air, and it seemed natural when Betsy leaned into Arabella’s side and Arabella put her arm round her. It was what a grandma would do.

Later on when Betsy was lying in bed with her rag doll tucked under one arm and Bruno under the other, she watched her mother getting ready to go downstairs for dinner. She had never imagined a bed could be so soft as this one, and the linen sheets were embroidered with little flowers at the top and smelled of lavender. Her mother’s bed, which was divided from hers by a small table with a lamp on it, was exactly the same and they both had a top cover that matched the pale lemon curtains at the big bay window.