‘’Tis no good. I can’t go out. I just can’t,’ she whispered, and Freddie sat looking at her, letting the silence settle between them. Once again nothing had been resolved. They had taken the same old journey and arrived at the same old barrier, and once again his plans to go and see Kate had to be put on hold. He’d seen a motorbike he wanted to buy, and he’d told Kate about it in his letter. A motorbike would enable him to go across on the ferry, and inside he was buzzing with excitement at the thought. He could stay the night at Asan Farm, and have salmon for supper, Kate had promised in her letter. He must go before the autumn weather set in. It was now nearly October, and, once the rains started, the Levels were flooded through the winter. Monterose was cut off, standing like an island in the flooded fields. A motorbike would have no chance.

Freddie was pondering how to explain this to his mother. If he told her about his proposed trip she would close down like a roller blind, and her attitude to Kate would darken. But now she said something surprising.

‘You’ll have to buy her a ring,’ she said, her eyes brightening a little.

‘A ring. What – a wedding ring?’

‘No. An engagement ring.’

Annie went to the dresser and opened the secret drawer at the back. She took out a scuffed navy blue box, brought it to the table and opened it. Inside was an ornate gold ring set with a dark sapphire.

‘That was my engagement ring,’ she said. ‘Your father gave it me. It’s like a promise, an engagement ring. I don’t wear it now, ’tis too good to wear, but sometimes I take it out and look at it.’

Freddie nodded. ‘I’m saving up for one,’ he said. ‘But I’ve got to get the motorbike first.’

‘A motorbike!’ Annie looked horrified. ‘You can’t ride a motorbike in the winter! Why, you’ll catch pneumonia, Freddie, believe me, with your bad chest. Don’t do such a stupid thing. I’ll worry myself sick about you. I worry enough as it is.’

Freddie wished he hadn’t mentioned it, just as he’d thought Annie was coming round to the idea of him marrying Kate.

‘That’s two shocks in one day,’ she complained. ‘How can I sleep in my bed at night?’

‘Whether you like it or not, Mother, you’d better start getting used to it,’ said Freddie steadily. ‘And the stone carving. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. I’m carving an angel, and when its finished I shall give it to Kate. Then I’ll make you something. How about an owl?’

‘I don’t like owls,’ said Annie. ‘They give me the creeps.’

‘You’re not really going to do this, Kate?’ asked Ethie as the two girls swanned up the main street of Lynesend.

‘I’ve made my mind up.’

‘But what will Freddie say?’ teased Ethie, a touch maliciously.

Kate tossed her head. ‘He’s not going to see me, is he?’ She pushed open the door of the new Ladies’ Hairdressing Salon and went in with her usual radiant smile. ‘Wait until you see mine, Ethie, then you can decide whether to have yours done. Come on, it’s the latest fashion. We’ve got to move with the times. And just think, Ethie, we won’t have to go through all that agony every week, combing it out and disentangling it, and we won’t have it blowing in our faces. It’s so windy up here.’

Half an hour later both girls emerged with their hair cut short in a fashionable bob, Kate beaming and Ethie scowling as she caught sight of her reflection in shop windows.

‘Wheee! I feel LIBERATED!’ cried Kate and she flung her arms in the air and danced in the street, swishing her skirt and laughing.

‘For goodness’ sake, Kate!’ Ethie rolled her eyes. She had to admit Kate did look good with her glossy hair short and curling cheekily onto her rosy face. Whatever Kate did, she looked marvellous. It wasn’t fair. Ethie touched the back of her neck and it felt cold and bristly. She was sure the new hairdo accentuated her pimples and made her face look fat.

‘Come on. We’re going to buy some STOCKINGS.’ Kate dragged her into a draper’s shop and bought them each a pair of silk stockings. ‘Now we can go dancing,’ she said, her eyes alight as they left the shop and found themselves opposite the town hall where a poster proclaimed ‘Saturday Night Dance’.

‘I can’t dance,’ said Ethie. ‘You know that, Kate.’

‘You can. You learned it at school like I did, Ethie. Come on, it’s time you had some FUN.’

‘Dancing isn’t fun. Dancing is torture.’

Kate stood and looked at her sister in concern. Ethie looked like a guilty dog who had stolen a chicken carcass. Her mouth drooped and her pale blue eyes were furtive and full of pain.

‘What is wrong, Ethie?’ she asked, holding out both her hands to her sister. She wanted to understand what it was that made Ethie perpetually unhappy. ‘Are you homesick?’

Ethie’s eyes prickled. She couldn’t accept Kate’s warm kindness. She thought of the stolen letters and suddenly wanted to blurt it all out, there in the street, but she couldn’t.

‘It’s nothing,’ she mumbled.

‘Is it time of the month again?’

‘NO.’

‘What is it then?’

‘Nothing. Just leave me alone, Kate. And I am not going dancing with you.’

Kate took her sister’s arm determinedly. ‘Would you like to come and see the horses with me?’ she asked. ‘You’d love Little Foxy, she’s so friendly. Ian might invite you to ride.’

Ethie looked tempted. ‘Oh, all right, if you insist,’ she sighed.

The walk back to Asan Farm took the girls along the towpath between the railway line and the canal, then past the Tillerman’s Racing Stables where Kate worked every morning. She did everything from mucking out stables, cleaning tack, grooming and feeding the beautiful horses. It was hard work, but the highlight of the morning was going out on Little Foxy for the gallop. Ian Tillerman always wanted her alongside him, the stable boys behind them on the other four horses. Kate had made friends with everyone, quickly laughing away the initial smirks, joking and teasing as they worked. She enjoyed it and liked having money to spend.

She took Ethie to see Little Foxy. The mare arched her sleek neck over the stable door, her ears pricked and eyes shining as she greeted the two girls.

‘She’s lovely,’ said Ethie, reaching up to stroke her along the crest of her mane. ‘I’ll bet she’s a lovely ride.’

‘She’s wonderful. Light as air,’ said Kate. ‘But she is a bit nervous. She’s petrified of tractors and motorcars, and motorbikes. We have to be careful she doesn’t meet any on that narrow road.’

The two girls stood petting the beautiful horse, and Ian Tillerman soon appeared, carrying a saddle on his hip, his brow furrowed.

‘Oh, it’s KATE.’ His frown changed to a smile of recognition. ‘I didn’t recognise you with . . . with . . .’

‘The new hairdo!’ Kate beamed coquettishly and patted her newly bobbed hair. Ian reached out a suntanned hand and moved a curl gently away from her cheek.

‘Hmm. I quite like it. Very trendy – and cheeky too,’ he appraised, then he glanced at Ethie and frowned again.

‘My sister, Ethie,’ said Kate.

‘How do you do.’ Ethie shook hands stiffly, trying not to stare at the leathery hunk of a man. Ian Tillerman was her ideal image of the kind of man she wanted. Broad tweedy shoulders, long confident legs, white teeth and dark, attentive eyes. But as usual his eyes looked her over quickly, distastefully she thought, and turned back to gaze raptly at Kate.

‘We want to go dancing,’ Kate was saying brightly. ‘So we had our hair bobbed. It’s liberating!’

‘I’ll take you dancing,’ said Ian. ‘I’ll pick you both up at seven tonight, and take you home afterwards.’

‘Oooh. Yes, we’d love that. Wouldn’t we, Ethie?’

Ethie scowled down at her neat navy shoes.

‘No thanks,’ she said abruptly. ‘I’ve got to be up early to collect the salmon from the putts.’

She didn’t look at Ian Tillerman again. Sensing the look of relief on his face was enough, she didn’t want to see it any more than she wanted him to see the sudden fury in her eyes. It wasn’t fair. Her plan to hurt Kate by stealing Freddie’s letters was backfiring. Now, she thought, Kate was flirting with the man she wanted, and Ethie could see that Ian Tillerman was already besotted.