He gave each girl a peck on the cheek. His skin was scratchy, unshaven, his breath rank with tobacco, his eyes focused far from the present scene of departure. Joe was to drive them to the station in the old Wolseley. When he opened the passenger door, it was Stella who chose to get in. Prue saw them exchange a barely visible smile. She and Ag got into the back. Mr Lawrence gave a brief wave, then moved towards the barn. ‘Dad’s going to the market, luckily,’ said Joe. ‘He’ll keep himself busy, make the most of the smallholding. When Janet and I move in we’ll probably increase the stock . . .’ He spoke in a flat and weary voice. The journey continued in silence. When he dropped them off at the station he got out of the car, came round and opened both front and back doors but, unlike last night, kept his eyes on Stella. One of his hands was shaking. He hugged Ag and Prue, then turned to Stella. She stood a yard or so away, waiting her turn, her suitcase at her feet.
