A moment later Mary found herself face-to-face with her mother. Her expression was grim. There was a fading bruise in pale yellow and lavender around her eye.

‘What’s tha want?’ she asked. She looked at William with suspicion. ‘Who’s this tha’s brought with thee?’

‘This is William Hart,’ she said. ‘We’re meanin’ to get wed, but I need my father’s permission.’

Her mother hesitated, glancing up and down the street. ‘Tha’d best come in then,’ she said after a moment. It seemed that although she didn’t want Mary in her house again, she was reluctant to have a scene on the doorstep.

Her father was smoking his pipe with his feet up on the fender. His big toe was poking through a hole in one of his socks. John was sitting at the table, a pamphlet open in front of him. Susan was mending a shirt. The yard door slammed and Esther came in and stood in the doorway to the back kitchen, staring at William who was so tall he seemed to fill the small parlour.

‘Tha’s a cheek showin’ thy face here after up and leavin’ us without a word,’ Mary’s father told her.

‘What does tha mean? Tha knew I’d gone to work for Mr Sudell.’

‘Aye, and a fat lot of good that did thee. Don’t think tha can start beggin’ to come back home again. There’s no place for thee here any more.’

‘I’d rather starve on the street than come back here. And tha knows why!’ She glared at him and he didn’t even look contrite.

‘Who’s this?’ he asked, turning his attention to William.

‘I’m William Hart.’ He held out a hand in greeting. Her father ignored it and blew a cloud of smoke from his pipe. ‘My father has the ropemaker’s,’ added William as his hand fell to his side.

‘Aye, and what’s tha doin’ here?’ he asked.

‘I’d like to ask your permission to marry Mary.’

Her father took the pipe from his mouth and burst out laughing. ‘I’d like to ask your permission,’ he repeated in a singsong voice, mocking William. ‘What makes tha think I’d agree to that?’

‘Why wouldn’t tha?’ asked Mary.

‘Because tha’s no child of mine no more. Not after tha walked out without a word, leavin’ us to struggle without thy wages. Thy sisters went hungry,’ he told her.

‘If they went hungry it were because of thy drinkin’!’ she told him. ‘It weren’t my responsibility to provide for ’em!’

‘It’s up to family to work together,’ he replied. ‘Tha knew we were strugglin’ but tha couldn’t care less. Tha always were a selfish lass, thinkin’ of nothin’ but thyself.’

‘That’s not true!’

‘I heard as tha’s been back in Blackburn for months, but tha’s never come to see us before. And now tha’s only here because tha wants summat. Didst tha even know that our John were home?’

‘Of course I knew. Who dost tha think gave him money for his new clothes? It weren’t thee!’ She glanced at her brother who looked uncomfortable. She hoped he wouldn’t take the brunt of it after she’d gone.