Ellen, standing on a ladder, secateurs in hand, saw Gina striding quickly through the rose garden, completely ignoring her, then veering off to the front of the house as if to go down the drive. Poor Coco was trotting along beside her, being pulled to heel and not being allowed to stop to explore all his favourite interesting places. Gina looked like a woman on a mission or, more likely, a woman in an extremely bad mood.

Now what? There was always something unsettled about Gina. She was amused by the strangest things, such as the sudden death of Mrs Thwaite – Ellen still felt shocked when she remembered what Dora had told her about Gina’s reaction to that news – and was never entirely happy with her own lot, always casting an envious eye over other people’s lives. The current object of her bitterness and envy seemed to be Diana Stellion, although Ellen couldn’t imagine why on earth that should be. Diana was way out of Gina’s league. Ellen recalled it was envy of her own new job at the Hall that had inspired Gina to come to find work here. She seemed no happier for it really, though, despite the work being cleaner and easier than helping at Highview Farm. There was a wildness about Gina that was unpredictable. She was like a creature that could not be entirely tamed; perhaps like the wild cat Edward had told her about that evening he’d proposed: a loner, shy of company, yet with the potential to be fierce and dangerous.

Ellen felt her stomach do a happy little skip at the thought of Edward and that lovely evening with the shooting stars. He worked well with his father at Highview Farm, and he was that proud of his own little flock of Herdwicks. The first of the lambs would be ready for market in the autumn, and he was so excited, it did her heart good to hear him.