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anywhere.’
    ‘It’s not easy to get a job,’ said Ruby, ‘and Father’s counting on you to keep the fishing boat in the family.’
    ‘I hate fishing,’ said Percy. ‘I don’t want to be forced to do something I hate for the rest of my life, and certainly not with the old man.’
    ‘Oh, Percy … You know what he’ll say.’
    ‘I’m sorry, Ruby,’ he said, ‘but just because four generations of Batemans have fished, it’s no reason for me to mess up my life. I can’t even stand the smell of fish.’
    ‘When will you go?’ she asked.
    ‘As soon as I’ve saved up a bit of money,’ said Percy. ‘He leads me a dog’s life, and I’ve had enough.’
    Ruby squeezed his arm. She knew how he felt. He’d told her often enough, and their father’s belligerent attitude didn’t help. Yes, it was a shame, but Percy was right: he deserved to live his own life.
    They soon reached the lane. High Salvington itself was part of the South Downs, and the views from thetop were indeed lovely. The hill had always been an area of quiet natural beauty, but since the early 1920s a great many large detached houses had been built on the slopes leading to the top, and now this was a much-desired spot. Dr Palmer was right when he said there was little sign of poverty in this area. Only people with plenty of money could afford to live up here. Ruby couldn’t actually see the houses at the summit, but she couldn’t help feeling that they had changed this tranquil spot for good.
    She glanced back and, to her amazement, saw her father striding away from them all down the hill. ‘Father’s walking home!’ she gasped.
    ‘Good riddance,’ said Percy.
    ‘But what about May?’ cried Ruby.
    ‘It’s about time May understood what Father is really like,’ said Percy.
    ‘Oh, she’ll be so disappointed,’ said Ruby.
    ‘She’ll get over it,’ said Percy flatly.
    Albert was back. ‘Would you care to walk further down the meadow?’
    ‘No, thanks,’ said Ruby cheerfully. ‘You go ahead. I prefer to be on my own.’
    Albert pushed his hands into his pockets and set off sulkily down the hill.
    The meadow at the top of the lane was full of wild flowers. Ruby marvelled at the way the colours always seemed to blend together. The lady’s bedstraw and the scentless mayweed, which looked like the kind of yellowand white daisies you’d find in any cottage garden, danced in the grass alongside the gentle violet of the field scabious and the more vibrant common knapweed. It was so lovely and peaceful. Why couldn’t life always be like this? If she wasn’t dodging Mrs Fosdyke, she was trying to keep the peace between Percy and Father. Life was like a war zone, even without Mosley and Mussolini and their cronies stirring up dissention everywhere.
    Further down the meadow, Percy had run ahead of her and was trying to put a handful of grass down Cousin Lily’s back. She ran off screaming in delight. She might be getting engaged every five minutes, but Ruby couldn’t imagine Lily as a married woman. Ruby herself didn’t join in with the fun and games. Instead, she stood with her arms folded and enjoyed the view.
    Jim came and stood beside her, and they watched a skylark soaring high in the air to hover above the grass.
    ‘Look at that,’ she whispered, without turning her head to look at him.
    ‘I wish I had my camera with me,’ said Jim. The skylark, singing its heart out, plunged a few feet and rose again. ‘Beautiful.’
    She became aware that they were alone and, even more disconcertingly, Jim wasn’t watching the bird; he was looking at her. ‘You look so attractive, with the wind playing with your hair like that. I’d like to take a picture of you sometime.’
    Ruby felt herself blush. ‘Oh, go on with you, James Searle,’ she said, pushing his arm playfully.
    ‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘You’re very photogenic.’
    She turned away and the skylark dived down, probably having spotted some insects to eat. Ruby could