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TWO WEEKS BEFORE Christmas 1908, Emily and Danny were married in St Michael’s Church in Salmesbury, and in spite of Emily’s misgivings, it turned out to be a wonderful, joy-filled occasion, and one which – especially in the events that were to follow – no one would ever forget.

On her wedding day, Emily was out of her bed on the stroke of six. By half-past, she was washed, dressed in her everyday clothes and out of the house. Tired after another fitful night, she wandered the winter fields, talking to John in her mind, telling him all her thoughts. ‘I’m getting married today,’ she whispered into the chill, dark morning. ‘Like you, I’ve settled for someone else. Danny is a good man and I’m lucky to have him.’

But though she was fond of Danny, and would not hurt him for the world, her heart wasn’t in it. Oh, she put on a show and smiled and laughed and let them think she was content enough, but she wasn’t, and never would be.

Now, having wandered until she was weary, she returned to the farm and sat for a while in the orchard. Huddled in her big, warm cloak, she closed her eyes and allowed her thoughts to drift back to the dear past, to those happier days with John. Even though their plans had fallen apart, just thinking of how it could have been was a bittersweet pleasure …

Unaware that her daughter was even out of her bed, Aggie entered Grandad’s room. ‘Wake up, sleepy head!’ Placing his cup of tea on the bedside cabinet, she went over and riddled the small fire that had been barely smouldering through the night, and added a couple of lumps of coal. The flames sizzled and licked at the dust. She put back the big brass guard and laid her father-in-law’s clean long-johns and long-sleeved singlet to warm on the top.

‘What’s up with yer, woman?’ Regarding the clock through one half-open eye, the old fella groaned. ‘Bloody hell! What d’yer want, waking me at seven o’clock of a mornin’? Can’t a man get no sleep round ’ere?’

‘It’s a special day today,’ Aggie told him. ‘Drink your tea and stop moaning.’

Thomas Isaac dragged himself up in the bed. ‘Special day?’ He followed her with bloodshot eyes as she went to fully open the curtains. ‘What’s all that about, then?’

Aggie swung round. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?’

Taking a deep breath he asked on the crest of a sigh, ‘Forgotten what? Aw, Aggie, have a heart. Bugger off and let me drink me tea in peace.’

Aggie swished the curtains back on their pole and let the watery sunshine filter in. ‘I’m surprised you could forget,’ she chided. ‘It’s your granddaughter’s wedding day!’

‘Oh, my good God!’ He laughed out loud. ‘So it is! Why didn’t yer wake me? There’s things to do! I’ve to get washed and shaved, and ’ave yer wrapped me present? Good Lord, woman, what the devil are yer playing at, leaving me in bed till this time?’ He got so excited he gulped down his tea and nearly choked. ‘Now see what you’ve done! Yer trying to kill me off, that’s what yer up to, yer bugger!’

‘I’ll kill yer off with me bare hands if you don’t stop your antics!’ Though she couldn’t help but laugh.

Frantically wiping at his nightshirt, he then spilled the rest of his tea all over the bedclothes. ‘Aw, just look at that!’ Shaking a fist at her he yelled out with surprising gusto, ‘Yer mekking me nervous, woman! Just look what yer made me do now.’

When she didn’t answer he glanced up, to see her still standing at the window, a troubled look on her face. ‘Aggie – what’s to do, lass?’

But Aggie wasn’t listening. Instead she was gazing down into the orchard, where Emily sat alone and forlorn on the bench by the apple tree.

‘What are yer looking at?’ the old man asked curiously.

Aggie half turned. ‘Come and see for yourself.’

So, with a groan and a sigh at every step, Thomas Isaac made his slow, painful way over to the window. ‘By, it’s brass monkeys!’ he grumbled. Poking his head over her shoulder he stared out. ‘Why! It’s our Emily. What’s she doing out there at this time of a morning, on her wedding day an’ all?’

Aggie smiled, but it was a sad little smile. ‘She’s thinking, Dad, that’s what she’s doing.’

‘What’s she thinking about?’

‘Oh, just thinking. It’s what women do just afore they get wed,’ Aggie explained. ‘There’s allus them few, lingering doubts. You can’t help but wonder if you’re doing the right thing.’

Like all men, he didn’t fully understand. ‘I’ve never heard owt so bloody daft in all me life. If you’ve made up yer mind to get wed, what’s to wonder, tell me that, eh?’

So Aggie told him. ‘You wonder if it’ll all turn out the way you want it to, and most of all, you ask yourself if you love the man enough to wed him in the first place.’ Her voice faltered. ‘That’s what she’s doing, bless her heart.’

The old man began to understand and for a moment he fell silent. Then, because Aggie was the only one he could talk to about it, he asked quietly, ‘D’yer really think the lass is regretting what she’s about to do?’

‘Mebbe,’ Aggie replied. ‘Mebbe not.’

‘D’yer reckon she’s learned to love him?’

‘Who knows?’

‘Or d’yer think she’s only marrying Danny for the sake o’ the child?’

‘I don’t suppose we’ll ever really know the answer to any of that,’ Aggie sighed.

Thomas paused, wondering how he could help Emily, yet knowing there was nothing he could do to persuade her one way or the other. It was all beyond him, and that was the truth of it. He’d loved his Clare every day of their married life, and still missed her so much. ‘Aye well. Today’s the day, so she’d best get it right, or spend the rest of her life suffering the consequences.’ Like his daughter-in-law Aggie, he was torn two ways.

When he gave a long, telling shiver, Aggie was alarmed. ‘You’d best get back into bed, Dad.’

‘I can’t. The bed’s all wet.’

‘Oh, Dad! You didn’t –’

He gave her a withering look. ‘No, I bloody didn’t. I’ll remind you that I have never once wet the bed, and I’ll thank you to apologise for what you said.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I should think so an’ all.’ Taking hold of her arm he instructed, ‘You’ve worn me out, fetching me to this winder. Help me to the chair, and get me a blanket. Oh, and I’d like another cuppa tea. The last one got spilled all o’er the bed, thanks to you!’

Aggie was visibly taken aback. ‘For somebody who’s worn out, you’re very forceful with your orders, aren’t you?’

‘It’s up to you,’ he said weakly. ‘Either yer do as I ask, or you’ll ’ave me down with pneumonia, then what will yer do?’ For good effect he gave another dramatic shiver.

Aggie lost no time in getting him to the chair next to the fire. When he seemed more comfortable, she rushed to take a blanket from the cupboard and tuck it round him. ‘There – is that better?’

‘Where’s me tea?’

‘I’m not your slave, you know.’ She thought he’d made a remarkable recovery. ‘I’ve only got one pair of hands, and I’d be thankful if you’d kindly stop your blessed grumbling and groaning.’

As she went at the trot out the door, he called after her. ‘Aggie!’

‘What now?’

He gave her one of his cheekiest winks. ‘You like me having a go at yer, don’t yer, eh? Life wouldn’t be the same if we didn’t ’ave a bit of a banter now and then, would it?’

First giving him a warm smile, she hurried down the stairs. ‘You’re right, Dad,’ she chuckled heartily, putting the kettle on to make him a fresh brew. ‘Life just wouldn’t be the same.’

Glancing out of the kitchen window, she saw how Emily was still there, huddled against the sharp winter morning, her old shawl drawn tight about her head, which was bent, deep in thought. Aw, lass, her mother thought tenderly. What are we going to do with you, eh? But there was nothing at all she or anyone else could do. Except John, and he was not here.

On an impulse, she put on her coat and boots and prepared to go out to Emily. Then she took them off again. She’d best leave the lass be. Emily would have to work it out herself.

Aggie would have turned the world upside down to help her daughter but she knew that, when it came down to it, Emily was the only one who could decide what was best for her and Cathleen. And Danny as well, come to that.

A short time later she carried the old man’s tea up, changed the bed, and decided to let him finish his tea in peace. ‘I’ll be back in a while,’ she promised. ‘Keep that blanket round you though, Dad. It’s too cold to be wandering about in your undies.’ She glanced out the window. ‘I reckon it’ll snow afore the day’s out,’ she observed. ‘The skies are full of it.’

From where he sat, he too was able to see out the window. ‘It’ll not snow today,’ he remarked in a matter-of-fact voice.

Aggie smiled. ‘Oh, and who are you all of a sudden, then? The man in charge of the weather?’

‘I’m an old farmer,’ he replied confidently. ‘And we know a thing or two about the weather.’

She wagged a finger at him. ‘Aye, an’ so do old farmers’ wives,’ she retorted. ‘An’ I say it will snow heaven’s hardest. We ought to be good and ready for it, that’s what I say.’

‘Yer wrong, woman!’ He looked her in the eye. ‘It will not snow today, I’m telling yer.’ He took a casual sip of his tea, and nearly leaped out of his chair. ‘Bloody hell! This tea’s scalding hot.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Dad,’ she answered meekly. ‘Did you want it cold?’

‘Don’t talk daft! What use is a cold cuppa tea?’

He took another sip, this time relishing it, but as always he had to have the last word. ‘One way or another I reckon yer mean to finish me off.’

Aggie went out of the room, laughing to herself. ‘I’ll not be long afore I’m back!’ she called behind her, laughing louder when he retorted, ‘If yer gonna mek fun o’ me, you can bloody well stay away! An’ yer can stop talking about summat you know nowt about, too, ’cause it won’t snow today! You think on that.’

The old man couldn’t have been more wrong, because it did snow. It began a couple of hours later and continued well into the afternoon.

On the stroke of one, Emily came down the stairs, wearing her wedding outfit and looking pale but very lovely.

‘Aw, lass. You do us proud.’ Aggie was close to tears as she looked on her daughter.

‘Do I look all right then, Mam?’ Like all brides, in the short time before she took her vows, Emily was trembling inside. ‘You don’t think folks will tut and talk about me, do you?’

Aggie was shocked. ‘Whatever d’you mean?’

‘Because of Cathleen. I’ve had a child out of wedlock, Mam. That in itself is bad enough, but dressing up to be wed and the child as bridesmaid … well, it’s wrong, don’t you think?’

‘Having a child out of wedlock is a terrible thing – and nobody’s going to deny that, lass,’ Aggie said truthfully. ‘But the child came out of love between you and John Hanley. Everybody knows that. They also know it wasn’t your fault that he left you stranded.’

Emily listened to what her mother had to say and shame engulfed her. It was all a lie – a shocking lie that she had allowed everyone to believe. But the truth was even more shocking – that her own uncle had taken her by force, and Cathleen was the result.

‘Put it all out of your mind, love,’ Aggie urged. ‘This is your wedding day. You and Danny will be man and wife and afterwards, you’ll be respectable in everyone’s eyes. You’ll have somebody to take care of you, and Cathleen will have a daddy. When you say the words and sign your name as Danny’s wife, it’s a new life, a new start. So you must put all the bad stuff behind you, sweetheart. It’ll be all right, you’ll see.’

‘Thank you, Mam.’ Emily threw her arms round that dear, familiar figure, holding so tight and for so long that Aggie herself had to break the hold.

‘We’ll be there for you,’ she told Emily softly. ‘Me an’ Grandad, and Cathleen. When you get nervous and need some reassurance, just turn around and we’ll all be there.’

Pushing her away, she said grandly, ‘Now then, let’s have a look at you.’ She observed the smart cream-coloured suit with its fitted jacket, leg of mutton sleeves and flowing ankle-length skirt, and the pale blue hat with its smart cream feather and tiny veil above Emily’s mop of shining brown hair, and she was moved to tears. ‘By! You’ll have their eyes popping out, that you will!’ Taking out her hankie she shook it open and blew her nose loud and hard.

When Cathleen came running into the room, dressed prettily in a suit to match her own and both made by Aggie herself, Emily took her into her arms and gave her a mother’s kiss. ‘Are we ready then, sweetheart?’ However doubtful she felt, she must stay strong for the child’s sake.

Suddenly the carriage had arrived and there followed a few minutes of pandemonium. ‘Where’s your grandad?’ Aggie asked the child. ‘Was he ready when you came down just now?’

‘’Course I’m ready, woman!’ His voice sailed down from the upper regions. ‘All I need is a helping hand to get me down these blessed stairs!’

A moment or two later, Emily and Aggie had the carriage-driver in to help the old fella down the stairs and out the door. ‘We’ll have you settled and tucked into your seat in no time at all,’ the carriage-driver pronounced assuredly.

‘Don’t walk so damned fast, you silly arse!’ To his horror, Grandad found himself being propelled down the path at an extraordinary pace. ‘We’re not in no bloody race, as far as I’m aware.’

Inside the farmhouse the chaos continued. ‘Where did I put my hat?’ Aggie panicked. She wore a plain burgundy two-piece costume with a lemon-coloured blouse and a twiggy flower in her buttonhole that Grandad called ‘half a bloody tree!’. But she looked wonderful, and felt it. ‘Oh, look. There it is!’ Grabbing the hat from the dresser she plonked it on her head at a peculiar angle.

‘That’s not right, Mam,’ Emily told her. ‘It makes you look as if you’ve had one too many.’ She straightened the hat and looking in the mirror, Aggie was pleased to see how smart it was. ‘Money well spent,’ she said. ‘And the Lord knows we have to count every penny.’

Gathering her daughter and granddaughter, she ushered them across the room. ‘We’d best get a move on,’ she said, ‘or Grandad will be giving that poor man nightmares out there.’

‘We forgot the flowers!’ Almost at the door, Emily ran back to retrieve the flowers; a posy for Cathleen, and her own pretty, discreet bouquet. Being December there was a small choice of flowers, but thankfully the florist had managed to inject a measure of colour and greenery, all tied up with a pretty pink bow.

In a moment, to Grandad’s relief, they were climbing into the carriage.

‘There y’are, Dad – I told you it would snow.’ Aggie couldn’t resist saying I told you so.

‘It won’t last,’ he answered sulkily. ‘It’s nobbut a little shower.’

‘’Fraid not, sir.’ The carriage-driver folded the step-stool behind Cathleen, and prepared to close the door. ‘I reckon it’s in for the day, if not longer.’

‘Who the devil asked for your opinion?’ The old man gave him one of his probing glares. ‘Just get on and do the work you’re being paid for and mind your own damned business.’

As the disgruntled man slammed shut the door, Grandad added under his breath, ‘It’s a bloody shower, an’ I should know!’

As it happened, the snow tumbled relentlessly from the heavens for some considerable time. St Michael’s Church looked beautiful, although the path through the wych-gate and up to the big old oak door was treacherous.

Looking smart and dapper in his dark suit and tie, Danny welcomed his bride at the altar of the dear old church where they would be made man and wife. The snow continued to fall all through the service which, according to the locals who attended was, ‘Not bad, considering the circumstances, an’ wi’ the bairn bein’ there an’ all.’ And it carried on snowing all the way back to the farmhouse, where Aggie and Emily had earlier prepared a celebratory meal.

While the smell of roasting chicken filled the farmhouse and everyone enjoyed a glass of best sherry, Emily and Danny opened their wedding presents. There was a lovely timepiece from Grandad and Aggie, a pretty vase from Danny’s father, Bob, and from Cathleen an embroidered sampler with their names and the date stitched carefully in pastel colours. Aggie had found the right-sized frame in a Blackburn junk shop, and the little girl and her gran had cleaned the glass and frame with vinegar and beeswax until they both shone. She also gave them each a hug and a kiss, while she in turn received a small, silk-figured Bible from her mammy and her new daddy.

Danny gave his wife a beautiful bracelet of marcasite and sapphire, and she loved it so much she asked him to put it on her wrist there and then. Afterwards, to his delight, she kissed him, hoping with all her heart she could learn to be the wife he wanted.

Cathleen showed everyone the small Bible she had been given as bridesmaid, and Grandad told them all how proud he was of his beautiful young women. He then gave a formal little speech, in which he thanked Danny and his father for contributing to the festivities. ‘And we’re delighted to receive you into the family fold,’ he said affectionately. For a split second he thought of Michael, whose sacred duty it would have been to give away his daughter’s hand in marriage, but then he brushed the thought aside.

Everyone clapped and it was time to eat.

They sat round the table – Danny’s kind-natured father, Bob, a lean-looking man with soft eyes and a ginger moustache; then came Cathleen, pink-cheeked and over-excited, and Aggie bursting with pride.

Danny was so content he couldn’t stop smiling, his fond gaze never leaving Emily’s face and his hand constantly seeking hers under the table.

Then came Emily herself, feeling vulnerable and afraid, and not too certain what to expect from this new life she had embarked on. She tried hard to concentrate on Danny, but somehow John kept filling her mind and heart, and it was all she could do to smile at Danny with the look of a wife. But smile she did – as her mother noticed with approval.

As for Grandad, he greedily tucked into the delicious chicken, served with their own farm-grown vegetables, and loudly complained about the fact that there had been very few local people present at the ceremony.

‘You’d have thought more of ’em might ’ave turned out to see one of their own get wed,’ he said, in between scraping the last of the food off his plate and into his mouth. ‘Miserable buggers, so they are.’ He gave Aggie a knowing look. ‘O’ course, I don’t suppose yer can blame ’em,’ he remarked, sipping at his ale and getting more inebriated by the minute. He glanced at Cathleen. ‘Folks don’t forget in a hurry, do they?’

‘That’s enough, Dad!’ Aggie cast a glance at Cathleen, who thankfully was so engrossed in counting the raspberries in her pie, she appeared not to have heard. ‘Aren’t you forgetting summat?’ She drew his attention to the child. ‘I reckon you should mind your tongue, don’t you?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, lass!’ Realising he was out of his depth, the old man leaned over and gave Cathleen’s hand a fond squeeze. ‘Yer old Grandad talks rubbish sometimes.’

When, without looking up, Cathleen replied innocently, ‘I know, Grandad, but it’s all right,’ everyone laughed and the atmosphere was good.

‘If your mammy will fetch my accordion we can have us-selves a bit o’ music,’ Grandad suggested.

Without hesitation, and thankful that Cathleen was unaware of what had been said, Emily ran upstairs and found his cherished accordion.

‘By! I’ve not played this for a while,’ the old man said, making it screech and howl before he finally got to grips with it. ‘Come on, then. If you’ve all finished feeding yer faces, let’s see youse dancing till yer drop!’

On Aggie’s insistence, Danny and Emily pushed the table back to make room while, also made merry by the plentiful ale, Danny’s father Bob clambered to his feet and began shaking about in a frighteningly weird manner. ‘My dancing’s not what it used to be,’ he apologised, and hoping they wouldn’t have to endure it for long, everyone assured him he was doing just grand and encouraged him, by clapping to the rhythm.

After a while, Aggie got up to join him; more to stop him from falling over than anything else.

It wasn’t long before the two of them had to sit down. ‘I’m bone-weary,’ Bob groaned, red in the face and fighting for breath.

Laughing, Aggie told him, ‘We’re a pair of old crocks, you an’ me.’ Moreover, her feet felt like two raw pieces of meat where he had trampled them once too often.

When a moment later Grandad slowed the music to a waltz, Danny took Emily by the hand and led her to the centre of the floor. ‘You look beautiful, Mrs Williams,’ he whispered in her ear, and not for the first time made her feel humbled.

They danced to the music and he held her tight and she smiled up at him. To the onlookers it was a lovely thing to see.

Only Aggie knew the truth of how Emily must be feeling. Yet, like Emily, she had faith that everything would turn out for the best, and she clung to that with all her might.

When Cathleen decided to join them, the bridal couple enfolded her to them and the picture was complete. ‘They look a proper family,’ Danny’s father declared. And Aggie wholeheartedly agreed.

Outside, made curious by the music, Clem Jackson peered in through the window. He saw Emily in the arms of her new man, and the child – his child – glad to be a part of that close family unit, and the more he saw, the more livid he became. ‘I paid out all me hard-earned brass to help my fool of a sister and her gang o’ hangers-on, an’ I don’t even get invited to me own niece’s wedding!’ he growled. ‘Happen it’s time I started claiming back what’s mine!’

He watched a moment longer, so eaten up with jealousy he could bear it no longer. Cursing and threatening, he strode away, viciously kicking his dog, which whined and opened its huge mouth wide. He was a man rejected. A man who, when riled, was capable of anything.

At ten-thirty, Cathleen fell asleep on the sofa. Danny carried her upstairs where Emily put the child to bed and before he followed his new wife back down, he took the moment to kiss her long and hard. ‘I love you,’ he said passionately, and when Emily went to make a reply, he put his fingers to her lips. ‘It’s all right,’ he promised. ‘You don’t have to say anything.’

He knew how she still harboured feelings for John Hanley and he had reluctantly come to accept that; though every day, he prayed it was a temporary thing.

Some time later, feeling the need to leave them alone, Aggie made her excuses. ‘I’ve to be up at first light,’ she explained. ‘There’s a whole crop of Brussels to be got ready for market.’ When both Danny and Emily offered to help, she swiftly refused. ‘You’ll do no such thing!’

‘By! I should think not.’ Grandad as usual had to have the last word. ‘It’s your wedding night and I should think you’ve got better things to do than get out of yer bed at four in the morning to pack Brussels sprouts.’ His meaningful chuckle left nothing to the imagination.

‘Hey!’ Aggie gave him one of her warning stares. ‘I reckon it’s more than time you were in bed, old fella. It’s been a long day for all of us.’

Meanwhile, blushing deep pink, Emily made her excuses to go into the kitchen, where she was filled with dread at the thought of what was to come, not least because the memory of what had happened in the barn was still vivid in her mind.

But Danny knew nothing of that, nor did she want him to. So, when he entered the kitchen to find her, she laughed the old man’s comments off as best she could. ‘Grandad has a habit of saying what’s on his mind,’ she apologised. ‘I hope he didn’t embarrass you?’

Danny took her into his arms. ‘No, but he embarrassed you, didn’t he?’

She nodded. ‘How could you tell?’

‘Because you went redder than a cockerel in full shout.’

She laughed at that. ‘You’re such a nice man, Danny. I really don’t deserve you.’

‘Oh, so I’m just “nice”, am I?’

Now, when he kissed her on the neck in that same way John used to, she pulled away. ‘I’d best make a start on these pots.’

In minutes she had the boiling water poured and the washing soda sprinkled, and her arms were up to the elbows in dirty crockery. ‘You can help if you like?’ she invited. Anything to delay the inevitable, she thought guiltily.

In the parlour, Aggie was persuading Grandad to call it a day. ‘You look all in.’

‘Aye, lass.’ He had the good sense to see it. ‘I am a bit weary.’ He pointed to where Danny’s father was fast asleep in the armchair, mouth wide open and out to the world. ‘Look at that fella there,’ he laughed. ‘Not a care in the world an’ snoring like a good ’un. Meks me feel tired just looking at him.’

He handed her the accordion. ‘Yer right. Lead on, lass. I’d best do as yer say an’ get a good night’s sleep.’ He chuckled. ‘Who knows? I might just turn out of me bed at first light, and give yer a hand with them Brussels sprouts.’

Escorting him across the room, she declined his half-hearted offer with a groan. ‘I’m best on my own, thanks all the same, Dad.’

When they were going up the stairs, he in front and she behind and helping him the best she could, Aggie chided, ‘Honestly, Dad! What were you thinking of, to embarrass the young ’uns like that?’

‘Why?’ He could act the innocent when he wanted. ‘What did I do?’

Aggie tutted. ‘Sometimes, the way you blunder in with your careless remarks, it’s like you’ve got two left feet.’

He grinned naughtily. ‘You know me, Aggie, lass. I can’t help meself, that’s the trouble.’

In the kitchen, Danny was telling Emily, ‘When we’re done here, I’d best get my father home.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ she offered. ‘We’ll put him between us. One of us can drive the cart while the other makes sure he doesn’t fall out.’

Danny feigned indignation. ‘Are you saying my father’s drunk?’

Emily laughed. ‘Drunk as my grandad,’ she answered with a twinkle in her eye. ‘So, do I come with you or what?’

When they told Aggie, she wasn’t at all sure it was a good idea. ‘He can stay the night here,’ she said. ‘The snow’s been falling most of the day, and the lanes might well be choked.’ She didn’t know how she would manage it though. ‘We’ve no spare bedrooms, so we’ll need to make him comfortable down here. I’ve plenty of blankets and a bolster, so he should be warm enough.’

‘That’s very kind,’ Danny said, and they settled for that.

Half an hour later, with the makeshift bed on the floor and Aggie insisting they leave the pots and pans to her in the morning, they woke Bob Williams and explained how he was to stay the night. ‘That’s really good of you,’ he said sleepily, and while he proceeded to take off his shoes, Aggie went to her bed, followed by Danny and his new wife, whose nervousness was heightened with every step she took.

In the bedroom, she sat on the chair for a time, while Danny, also nervous but ready to die rather than admit it, went to the window and looked out at the endless expanse of fields, magically white and sparkling under the moonlight.

‘There’s two ways it can go.’ He glanced at the skies. ‘It’ll either freeze over by morning, or disappear like a will-o’-the-wisp, as though it were never here.’

Emily said she hoped it would all be gone by morning. ‘It makes our work outside a lot easier.’

An awkward silence followed, when each of them was momentarily lost in the enormity of the day’s events.

After a while, Danny addressed her quietly. ‘What have I done, love?’ he asked worriedly. ‘What have I said to hurt you?’

‘Nothing.’

‘There must be something, or you wouldn’t be so quiet.’

‘I’m quiet because I’m thinking, that’s all.’ And to put his mind at rest she stood up and gave him a kiss on the mouth. Not a long passionate kiss, but a kiss that told him she was fond of him.

Encouraged, he drew her into his arms, returning the kiss tenfold, his mouth covering hers and the need in him rising. ‘I love you so much,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll make you love me too, Mrs Williams.’

Slowly and ever so gently, he undressed her, taking off her pretty bridal garments, one by one.

Emily made no protest. Danny was her husband. She had taken his ring and his name and now she was his wife, with all the duties that came with it.

The lovemaking was hesitant and tender. He didn’t hurt or frighten her as she had feared. Nor did he excite her.

Instead, her heart was with John. In her mind’s eye she saw him as plainly as if he was there with her. During the half-hour that Danny was on top of her, she pretended it was John who held her in his arms, and so the ordeal was easier to bear.

Long after Danny had fallen asleep, his arm still round her shoulders, Emily lay awake.

This is my life now, she thought. Giving myself to Danny, and pretending it is all right. Only of course it wasn’t, and never would be.

‘Where are you, John?’ she asked the darkness. ‘Why did you never come back for me?’

There was no answer. Outside, the snow fell thickly on her wedding night, covering all in a blanket of silence.