‘But why would he just go off like that? Th-this is his home,’ Sunday stammered, then as a thought occurred to her she said hopefully, ‘Perhaps he’s taken himself off on a little holiday. God knows he deserves one.’

‘Huh! I doubt that. He’d have told us if that was what ’e were plannin’.’ Cissie shook her head, setting her chins wobbling. ‘We can hardly get him to go into town let alone take a holiday.’

Their conversation was stopped from going any further when the sound of Bill Dewhurst’s coal wagon drew into the yard and Cissie bustled away to put the kettle on. She knew he he’d be glad of a hot drink today with the weather being as it was.

When Bill had emptied the sacks of coal into the coal store he rapped on the door and came into the kitchen, looking ill at ease as he removed his cap.

‘Morning, ladies.’

Cissie ushered him to the table and the reason for his discomfort soon became clear when he said, ‘I hope yer don’t mind me askin’, Mrs Brannin’, but do yer reckon yer could settle yer bill today? There’s eight months owin’ now wi’ the load I’ve dropped today.’

Sunday’s eyes stretched wide as she stared at him in shock. ‘What? … But Ben should have paid you. He promised me he would!’

Bill shrugged, looking mightily embarrassed as he took a swig of the hot tea Cissie had placed in front of him, nearly scalding his throat. ‘I know, missus, but he just kept sayin’ he’d settle up next time an’ I didn’t want to cause no fuss, what wi’ you bein’ such good customers.’

‘Oh, Bill, I’m so sorry!’ Sunday was mortified. She had always prided herself on her bills being paid on time and now more than ever she wished that she had insisted she take over the household accounts again. But Ben had been so against it, insisting that he could manage.