‘Yes, she is. I heared Mrs Carruthers what lives up the other end of the Court say she’s the queen of liars,’ Mo had said innocently. ‘She said she has a new lie for every day of the week.’

It might not have been so bad if the other woman had not laughed, but laugh she did, for Aunt Huxtable’s reputation had gone ahead of her. Normally Mo would have got a whipping, but because they were in the open with neighbours coming and going it had been passed off as a joke, albeit in rather bad taste. Mo had been shaken, slapped and sent supperless to bed, and she was still wary in Aunt Huxtable’s presence.

So now Jimmy grinned at the older man. ‘Playin’ shop in the Latimers’ woodshed,’ he said, continuing to pack Harry’s stock neatly away. ‘Are you going to collapse the stall? Only it looks as though it might rain again later.’

His companion shook his head. ‘No point, me laddo,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back here bright an’ early settin’ up shop, so I just cover the top with this here tarpaulin and I’m ready to start tradin’ as soon as customers appear.’

‘Right,’ Jimmy said briskly, and very soon he was bidding Mr Theaker goodbye and setting off for the Court.

As he walked he began to wonder whether there really was any chance of his father’s returning for the holiday. It had been more than a year since his mother’s death, and though most folk were too tactful to remark on Mr Trewin’s absence Jimmy knew that there were mutterings from kindly folk in the Court, who saw how Mrs Huxtable treated them and knew that their father would be horrified if he knew one half of what went on. Naturally enough Jimmy and Mo agreed with their well-wishers, for they yearned for their father’s return and could not understand why he had left them for so long. Jimmy told Mo constantly that Dad loved them both and would come home one day and take them away from Mrs Huxtable, but recently he had overheard something which at least partially explained why he had not yet done so.

Jimmy had been queuing at the big brass water tap at the end of the Court with two empty buckets to fill, trying to think how he could get a letter to his father when he had no idea which ship he was on, when he suddenly heard a neighbour ahead of him in the queue mention his name.

‘You know young Jimmy Trewin’s pa haven’t been home not once since his wife died? Did you know her?’

Her companion had shrugged, looking puzzled. ‘I dunno. What did she look like?’

The neighbour sighed. ‘She had wonderful ash blonde hair soft as a dandelion clock, big blue eyes and a rare lovely complexion, though as she got worse the colour faded from her cheeks and left her very pale.’

The other woman pulled a doubtful face. ‘There’s a kid round here what’s got ash blonde curls,’ she said, and Jimmy saw her friend nod.