Having satisfied himself that poor little Mo was not a murderer Jimmy stole down the hall and let himself out into the ice-cold morning. He was just about to turn back to Scotland Road when he saw a movement and presently recognised Edmund Nuttall, commonly known as Nutty. Like Jimmy, Nutty often helped out at one of the markets, and now a big smile crossed his face and he opened his mouth, clearly about to shout a greeting.

Jimmy had never known he could move so fast, but he had reached Nutty and clapped a hand over his mouth before the other boy had drawn breath. ‘Shurrup, old feller,’ he hissed. ‘I come back here early, on the sly like, ’cos I wanted to know what’s been happenin’. There was a rare ol’ fuss yesterday and I heard that Cyril Huxtable had had a bit of a fall. Good job if you ask me, only it won’t sweeten the old gal’s temper. Were you around when it happened?’ He drew Nutty out of the Court as he spoke, and the two settled themselves on a pile of orange boxes outside a greengrocer’s shop whose owner was clearly still abed.

‘Well, you’re right about one thing,’ Nutty agreed. ‘There were a hellish fuss. That drunken sot come roarin’ out of his pit all set to beat up anyone in his way and fell from top to bottom of the stairs. His ma would have it he were dead and tried to blame Mo, but they say drunks can fall a good deal further than just down one flight of stairs without doing themselves any harm.’ He chuckled. ‘I didn’t see it myself, but my mam telled me that he were on his feet again and vowing revenge only a couple of hours after he hit the bottom.’

Cautiously, Jimmy tried to extract a little more information from his friend. ‘How did he come to fall?’ he asked with well-simulated curiosity. ‘After all, he knows where the stairs are; he’s stumbled up and down ’em often enough.’

Nutty shrugged. ‘His old ma said somethin’ about bootlaces, I’m not sure what. I reckon he could have tripped over them, wouldn’t you say? But bein’ a Huxtable, of course he had to try and find someone to blame; stands to reason. And now he’s sayin’ he’ll get whoever tripped him if it takes him the rest of his life, but I reckon that’s just talk. After all, it’ll soon be Christmas Day, and knowin’ him he’ll be on the booze from the moment the pubs open. By Boxing Day it’ll all be forgotten.’ He jerked a thumb at the Court behind them. ‘You goin’ back there? I’ve gorra job in Paddy’s Market makin’ up bags of fruit and nuts so’s Mrs Apply don’t have to waste time weighin’ ’em. You gorra job an’ all?’

Jimmy opened his mouth to tell Nutty that he would be working for Mr Theaker, then changed his mind. Nutty was not a gabster, never had been, but what he did not know he could not tell, and the fewer people who knew where he and Mo were, the better. So he shrugged his shoulders, replying evasively that he had only come back to the Court to discover for himself just what had happened the previous evening.