Changing her mind about the fate of the letter, she turned towards her father. ‘I was just going out, Daddy. Come with me. I have to deliver this letter to the post office, and I thought I would drive to Queen’s Park and take a walk. Mummy loved that park. We will feel close to her there.’

‘Yes, but she didn’t like you driving. Such an unladylike thing to do.’

‘That wasn’t Mummy – and you know it, Daddy. That notion is yours. If Mummy could have, she’d have taken to the wheel the moment you bought the Rolls, but she knew it would put you in a tizzy.’

‘Ha, I suppose you’re right, my dear. I have always had more of an old-fashioned outlook. It was your mother who made it possible for you to achieve all that you’ve accomplished. I would have packed you off to finishing school. But I don’t regret it, as you’ve been like a son as well as a daughter to me.’

They were walking very slowly around the perimeter of the huge lake in the beautiful park when the subject came up again. Mags had been deep in thought about how her life had panned out, but she hadn’t missed the stark winter beauty around her: the slanting grassy slopes, the variety of trees and bushes and how the evergreens gave a splash of colour to the stark trees, stripped of their summer glory.

The North of England was rarely taken seriously, being looked upon as an industrial, cloth-cap-and-clogs place that was choked by the smoke belching from its factories. Very few southerners ventured up here, if they could avoid it, and yet it was a place of stunning beauty, no matter what the season. The Pennine mountains and the Bowland hills surrounded Blackburn and produced a kaleidoscope of rich greens in summer, rustic browns and flaming reds in autumn and were now clad in icy white, which after Christmas would give way to the many shades of spring, when everywhere would be bursting into bloom.

‘I never wanted you to see me as a son, Daddy, but as a daughter with skills you were proud of.’

‘I know, my dear. And that is what you are. I am worried about you, though. How will you fare in a marriage to a man who doesn’t agree with his wife working?’

‘Oh? You know Harold’s views?’

‘Yes, he has tried to get me on his side.’

‘Did he succeed?’

‘He did. I agree with him, but I did tell him that, like me, he would benefit from seeking your advice on all business matters. I told him he could have no better person to guide him than you.’

Mags could only smile. She didn’t want to disillusion her father, but she knew that wouldn’t happen. Where Harold was concerned, she had to accept that it was a man’s world. But could she accept that?

‘But, you know, you don’t have to worry. I have made sure that the mill is yours and I didn’t agree to merge it with Roford mill. I—’