The conversation with her mother and the unpleasant row with Cissy had unsettled her all day, which was why she’d needed to get out of the house for a while to clear her head and try to think of the best way to make amends. She tramped across the freshly hosed cobbled yard and climbed the gate, then plodded across the field to the fence bounding the swiftly flowing river at the bottom. The sound of it was soothing as it rushed over its stony bed and raced towards the glimmering line of the sea on the horizon.

Leaning on the fence, Anne lit a cigarette and regarded the darkening vista of sprawling fields, drystone walls and lines of softly rounded hills. She’d come to love it here, for the sense of community was strong, and although they’d been strangers when they’d arrived in Barnham Green all those years ago, they’d been made welcome, and now felt very much at home.

Anne turned her back on the view and regarded Owlet Farm. The comfortable, rambling farmhouse was solidly built of the local stone, and was set on a low hill overlooking hundreds of acres of grazing and arable land. The milking sheds and dairy stood a short distance away across a cobbled courtyard, the byres in large barns behind that. The dairy herd had increased over the years, as had the amount of land put to crops.

There were three small cottages nestled beside the main house. One of them housed a couple of old farmhands who were living out their days by tending their much prized vegetable garden and offering advice on how things had been done in their day when there were only horses to help with the heavy work. The second was inhabited by the last remaining German prisoner of war, and the third was where Sally Hicks had set up home with her little boy Harry, and her younger brother Ernie who was now twelve and growing like a weed.

Anne noticed a faint light glimmering behind the thin cotton curtains. Sally had been Peggy’s first evacuee, who’d arrived in Cliffehaven from the slums of London with six-year-old Ernie who’d had infantile polio and wore a specially made boot and calliper on his leg. At sixteen, Sally had taken on the role of mother as their own had been so neglectful, and through Peggy’s warmth and encouragement, had blossomed in Cliffehaven. She’d started her own home dress-making business and ended up marrying the fire chief, John Hicks, with whom she’d had little Harry.