James smiled at her as Mr Whittaker read out their names: James Herbert Hindle, bachelor of this parish, and Hannah Margaret Chadwick, spinster of this parish. It gave her a warm feeling inside and she was surprised at the number of people who came up to them in the churchyard afterwards to offer their best wishes. She saw Mr and Mrs Feilden and their daughters, but they hurried away without even looking at them.

‘They’ll not be asking thee to supper any more,’ she said to James, wishing that things could have turned out differently.

She looked around for Mary, although she didn’t really expect to see her. Her friend had always preferred evensong. She’d go down to the Star tomorrow, she thought, to let her know that it was all settled and tell her again that she really did want her to come to the wedding.

It was still dark when Mary came down the stairs the next morning with her bag packed, ready to catch the early-morning coach to Liverpool. She was surprised to see that Mrs Hall was up before her and had made hot tea and toast.

‘Here. Take these,’ she said, pushing a bundle with some pies wrapped in a cloth into her hands. ‘For the journey,’ she added.

Mary felt a wave of emotion overcome her and she hugged the woman. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘For everythin’ tha’s done for me.’

‘I’ve done nowt,’ replied Mrs Hall, her chin quivering. ‘It were a cryin’ shame that tha ever fetched up on my doorstep to begin with. Now, get off with thee. Don’t keep him waiting. He’s a good man, so be good to him,’ she advised as she unbarred the door.

Mary stepped outside and her breath caught on the cold morning air, sending a cloud of vapour around her. One or two engines were starting up and she could hear the knocker-up making his way down one of the side streets, but it was mostly still quiet.

William was waiting for her with his bag in his hand. He took hers and gave Mrs Hall a nod of gratitude. Then they hurried to the Bird in Hand on Darwen Street where the Royal Union would leave for Liverpool, promptly at half past six.

The coach was waiting when they arrived, the coachman yawning sleepily, and the horses snorting and filling the air with their breath. Mary wondered if John had fetched them down from the stables. He hadn’t waited to say goodbye if he had. Maybe he didn’t want a public farewell, she thought. She’d seen him the day before and given him the letter from William and his instructions to report to the office of the ropeworks on Monday morning to begin his new job as a desk clerk, and then to go to the lodging house on Northgate where there was a room on the top floor with the rent paid for the next month.

William ushered her forwards as she hesitated, glancing about for her brother.