Josie was the first to move. She tore across the field, stumbling and tripping over her skirts in her haste to reach her father. She threw herself down on her knees beside him, sobbing, ‘Papa, speak to me.’ She tried to rouse him but he was lying face down and motionless. The back of his tweed jacket was shredded by lead shot and he was bleeding profusely. She attempted to lift his head, but someone was speaking to her, although she could not make sense of the words. Tears were running freely down her cheeks but she brushed them away with an impatient hand. ‘Papa, it’s me, Josie.’ Strong arms lifted her off the ground; she struggled, but she could not break free. ‘Let me go. I must help Papa.’ ‘We will see to him, Josie.’ Harry’s voice was calm, but firm. He set her on her feet next to Kate. ‘Will you take care of her, Miss Coggins?’ ‘I’m perfectly all right.’ Josie took a deep breath in an effort to control the bubble of hysteria that was threatening to overwhelm her.
