‘Oh, my love, I know you would take care of me. I would never doubt that. It’s just that I’m getting on with the gardening at the Hall so well now, and really loving my work, and I wouldn’t want to have to give it up. Of course we’d want to have children – you’ll want a little boy to leave the farm to eventually, like generations of Beveridges before you – but I’m only twenty and I’d really like to carry on at the Hall for a while before I have to give it up.’

‘Why would you have to give it up? I’m that proud of what you do, Nell. I’ve seen the way Tom’s given you more responsibility and how much you’ve learned, even though you’ve not been there quite a year yet. I don’t see why a woman with a talent like yours should waste it by giving up her job just because she’d got married. I know you hear of it, in the towns, like, with some kinds of work, but country women have always worked. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be a gardener and a mother.’

‘Oh, Ed, I’m that glad you understand. I’d hate for us to get off on the wrong foot with any kind of misunderstanding.’

‘I reckon you and me understand each other all right, Nell. You know what the farm means to me, so why wouldn’t I think the Hall garden meant the same to you?’

‘Dear Ed, thank you. You are the dearest man in the whole wide world. I do love you so much and I do want to marry you.’

‘So is that “yes” then, Nell?’

‘It’s yes, Ed. Yes, please.’

They celebrated with a long, long kiss and then continued silently down the lane.

Suddenly Ed stopped. The sky was clear and the stars bright.

‘What is it?’ whispered Ellen. ‘Not a wild cat?’

‘No, my love. Look ahead, look up. Shooting stars! You’ve got to be quick to see one, but if you do you should make a wish.’

They stood in silence, their torches switched off, eyes trained on the black starry sky. Suddenly: ‘There!’ breathed Ellen.

‘I saw it, too. Did you wish?’

‘I did. Did you?’

‘Oh, yes, love. There’s only one wish I could make tonight, though.’

‘Me, too,’ said Ellen, kissing him again.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

‘SOME LETTERS FOR Mr and Mrs Stellion and another parcel for you, Miss Arnold,’ said Arthur Smollett, putting the little brown-paper-wrapped box in Gina’s hands. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happened with this one. Looks a bit like someone’s sat on it. Let me know if there’s owt missing and I’ll bring you a form to claim for it.’