“I think I know why you went, Prudence.” Mum only ever called her by her full name when she was cross. “You forget that I know how your mind works. I watched your first determined steps walking. You went from crawling to walking within days, just so you could chase your brother into the fields.”

Prue fidgeted with the sleeve of her jacket, not knowing what to say – trying not to think of Francis, trying not to fall to pieces.

Mum clattered with cups at the sink. “You want to bring Francis back at that Guild, don’t you?”

Prue opened her mouth to make some excuse, but Mum had always been able to read her thoughts.

Her mother turned from the sink to face her. “What good do you think will come of it? Things should be left well alone. I don’t want to see him as some animal, some clickety-clackety monstrosity!”

“You don’t understand what it’s like, what they’re like!”

“I understand perfectly, Prue. Life is life and death is death. It’s tampering with things that shouldn’t be messed with. It can only end one way, and that’s badly.”

“But if we thought like that about all technology, then we’d still be living in mud huts and caves! We use machinery on the farm to help us, don’t we?”

Mrs Haywood sat opposite her. “Don’t be contrary, Prudence. You know very well that’s different. Machines are machines; mixing it with the other side is wrong.”

“But they aren’t monstrosities. They’re brilliant, advanced, completely life-like machines that contain people. You’ve met Luella – she’s lovely!”

“Well, of course I’m civil to her, she’s nice enough and it’s not her fault she’s been brought back.”

“But—”

“Prue, I don’t want to hear another word of it. Now, you can continue there, I shan’t stop you, but you let go of any thoughts of messing with Francis.”

Prue screeched back in her chair and stood up. “You don’t understand!” she shouted. “We need this, we need Francis back.”

She paced back and forward a couple of times before stopping at the dresser where a picture of the four of them together rested behind a small jug. Below, among a pile of paper, Prue caught sight of a flyer. The symbol of the ASL was on it and it simply stated ASL. For natural order.

“You’re not falling for this nonsense, are you?” Prue snapped, snatching up the paper and throwing it on the table.

Mrs Haywood looked at it. “My opinions are mine and I don’t need anyone else telling me.”

“Everything all right?” said Mr Haywood walking into the room.

They both fell quiet.

“Perhaps it’s time for tea,” he said.

*