‘And we could break open a packet of biscuits to show our appreciation,’ Violet said. ‘Tell you what, Ruby, why don’t you take Reggie through to the kitchen? I’ll hold the fort here. I don’t want any biscuits now I come to think of it, they’ll just make my heartburn worse.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ said Reggie, but his eyes kept straying to Ruby. ‘I only stopped by to take orders for Christmas vegetables. We’ll have plenty if you are interested.’

‘Why don’t you sort that out with Ruby; she knows more about ordering than I do,’ Violet admitted honestly. Adding up figures had never been her strong point and now she was getting by on just a few hours’ sleep a night, she was worse at them than ever. ‘I trust her to make all the right decisions, you know.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ said Reggie, his eyes alight as Ruby led him back through to the little kitchen.

Violet sighed as she gently shut the door on them. They deserved a bit of privacy. He really was a very pleasant man and he seemed genuinely fond of Ruby. She felt mean that she’d made fun of him a little before. If he brought Ruby happiness, who was she to mock him? Ruby came to life in his presence in a way she’d never seen before. Violet shut her eyes, cross with herself. The trouble was they’d all believed Winnie, who’d put it about that Ruby was simple and wrong in the head. Even when they’d seen for themselves that it wasn’t true and Winnie had been saying it out of meanness and as a way of putting everyone off the scent to cover her own sin, the damage had been done. Yet Ruby was a young woman who deserved love as much as any other. Perhaps Reggie James was just the right man for her.

The door bell went again and in came Mrs Mawdsley, obviously in a hurry. ‘Good morning, dear. I won’t keep you, just let me buy a paper.’

Violet smiled and then grimaced as a twinge shot through her. She rallied and tried to sound cheerful as she handed it over. ‘Here you are. Chilly out, isn’t it?’

Mrs Mawdsley regarded her carefully. ‘Yes, Christmas isn’t far off now. When are you due, my dear? Not long to go now, by the looks of you.’

From anyone else, Violet might have bristled at the intrusive comment, but she knew the woman’s heart was in the right place. ‘Early January,’ she replied. ‘Dolly says first ones can often be late, but that I’m doing well.’

‘And she should know,’ Mrs Mawdsley agreed. ‘All the same, you must take care, my dear.’ She shook her head. The poor young woman looked as if she was going to pop at any moment.