‘No … no, it’s all right,’ said Gina, vaguely. The birthmark was old news in the family so why was Dad making such a fuss about it now? Really, he was impossible to fathom sometimes.

‘Come on, Piggy, let’s go and get a cup of tea,’ said Diana, taking her friend’s arm and leading her away. ‘See you later, Gina …’

The crowd in the vegetable marquee was slowly dispersing now the results had been announced. For a moment Gina stood and wondered if she should go to find Philip, but she knew he’d be in a bad temper and she couldn’t face that today. Besides, she’d had enough to do helping to prepare for the fête; let Mum and Nell deal with him.

‘Gina? You all right?’

It was Ellen, holding on to Edward Beveridge’s arm as if they were Siamese twins.

‘Oh, it’s just Dad. He was here and Diana’s friend said summat about me looking like Uncle Tom, except she thought Uncle Tom was our dad, and Dad stormed off.’

‘Oh Lord, he’s always been queer about the birthmarks – it was the birthmarks, wasn’t it? – and now he’ll be all the wrong side out for days.’

‘Can I do anything?’ asked Ed.

‘Er, I don’t know. I don’t want our day spoiled, but neither do I want Mum to get it in the neck when we get home.’ She sighed. ‘Oh, this is exactly the kind of thing I didn’t want to happen today.’

‘Let’s go and see if he’s still here and mebbe we can talk him round with a cup of tea,’ said Ed.

‘It’ll take more than a cup of tea, I reckon,’ said Ellen. ‘But thank you, Ed.’

They followed the crowd out of the marquee and Gina put her hands over her face for a moment to gather herself. When she looked up, the first thing she noticed was an enormous cucumber with a red rosette next to it and Ed’s name on a card. She’d always thought Edward Beveridge was a bit dim, but now she acknowledged that he was, more than anything, considerate. He hadn’t even mentioned his first prize and had immediately volunteered to take on the job of talking Phil out of his mood.

Lucky old Nellie! They were so obviously in love and maybe she’d got herself a fine man there, after all. Nell’s future was pretty much mapped out: she’d marry Edward and eventually he’d inherit the farm and Nell would be a farmer’s wife with a farm of their very own. Nell had spoken about wanting to be a gardener, but she’d probably forget all about that if she married Ed Beveridge. They’d take their place in the generations of Beveridges at Highview Farm, in Little Grindle, and be quite happy about it.