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Maggie Gallacher had all but read the print off the elegant, gold-trimmed card. An invitation from the Duke of Moorshire to an evening at Lea Hall? She could still scarcely believe her eyes, even if it was a long-overdue honour - after all her husband Rod had done for the town.
There were a lot of Gallachers around Fellburn, and all were equally incredulous. Their Mam was a big-hearted woman, with a laugh to match, but was she really the type to go hob-nobbing with the aristocracy? It would be a night to remember, all right!
And indeed it was. But had Maggie, or any of the Gallachers, foreseen how it would turn out, how irrevocably it would change the lives of all of them, she would have torn that invitation into tiny pieces and thrown them on the fire . . .
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