Mo gave a small moan. She remembered her mother apologising to Jimmy a couple of years earlier for her inability to buy the present he most wanted, saying that a really good harmonica was way beyond their means. Even if Cyril did not recognise its value, Aunt Huxtable would take it away and sell it for sure. She had to rescue the parcel before that happened; taking a deep, silent breath, Mo waited to see what Cyril would do.

At last, frowning heavily and taking swigs from his bottle every now and then, he seemed to make up his mind. ‘Load of rubbish, that lot. Won’t get nothin’ for them down the market.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘It’s lucky I’ve got other plans for making gelt.’ And he took what looked to Mo like a sparkling string out of his pocket. She had never seen anything so lovely as it glittered in the firelight. As she watched, entranced, Cyril pulled a face and hollered, ‘Ma! Where’s my dinner?’

There was no reply; Mrs Huxtable, Mo knew, was not in the house, having gone over to Mrs Grimshaw’s for a chat. Grumbling, Cyril shambled across the kitchen, still clutching the children’s presents as well as the pretty string, which Mo could now see was a jewelled necklace. He must have stolen it, she thought. ‘Well, I’m for a spot of shut-eye until the pubs open,’ he mumbled. He gave a last bellow of ‘Ma, where the devil’s you at?’ and lurched towards the stairs.

As soon as he had gone, Mo gave a little moan of despair and crawled out from her clothes-horse shelter. She could hear Cyril still muttering as he crashed on to his bed. ‘I’ll get them bloody Trewins if it’s the last thing I do, and if they give me any trouble I’ll top the pair of ’em,’ he slurred. ‘Mam hates ’em, I hates ’em, anyone with a grain o’ sense hates ’em. I’ll catch ’em and shove ’em into the dock as soon as I’m sober.’ He chuckled hoarsely. ‘They’re a burden on us Huxtables, that’s what they are.’

Mo sat quite still for a few minutes, wondering whether Cyril’s threat was real. Then common sense came to her aid. If he attacked her or Jimmy he would be in real trouble when their father came home, and besides, if he suspected she was listening it was just the sort of threat he’d use to frighten her. Oh, how she hated him! But she must go and warn Jimmy that he was home, and maybe they would be able to keep out of his way. First, though, she must rescue their presents, and perhaps take another look at the sparkly necklace. He would be deep in a drunken sleep by now, but might wake at any moment. However, she knew a way to slow him down if he tried to follow her, if she dared to do it. Softly, she stole up the stairs and crept silently into Cyril’s room. He was snoring.