‘Do you like the house, Catherine?’
‘Yes, Teddy, it is lovely, and more space than we had before, we even have a parlour like Mama and Papa have.’ Catherine held baby Margaret close, so she could bury her face in the infant’s swaddling. Teddy was happy, and she didn’t want her tears upsetting him.
Tedder left the house at sunrise; the early winter air had a crispness that wasn’t quite cold but left no doubt that warm autumn mornings were no longer to be expected. The streets were muddy from the rain the night before, but not impossible to walk on, although he was pleased he’d worn his old convict issue boots and not the new ones he’d bought from James Blay Jr. He stopped briefly to watch the rising sun play with the surface of the Derwent and cast shadows over the ship that was anchored
