Our Eva [antikvár]

August 19 21 Eva stared out at the Pennine foothills as the new motor bus chugged slowly towards Heyshaw. It had been wonderful to see all the family at her sister Polly's wedding, but she had come away envious of her two sisters' happiness. She was angry with herself for that, not wanting to be mean-spirited, but could not help wishing she too had a husband to love, children tugging at her skirts and calling, 'Mam, Mam!' in that insistent way you could not ignore. She smiled at the thought of children, then sighed. Why would any man fall in love with shy, prim Eva Kershaw, former schoolmistress, who was neither beautiful nor remarkable in any way? She was twenty-four now, had never attracted a suitor and wasn't likely to, either, now that so many young men of her generation had been killed in the war. Oh, heavens, she was getting maudlin! Pull yourself together, my girl, she scolded, and sat very upright, relieved to be nearly home - and yet fearing what she would find there. She got off the bus in the centre of Heyshaw, a place