Emma stepped onto the pavement and went into the pub, and hesitated. One door said “SALOON BAR”; another, “TAP ROOM”; and the third said: “THE SNUG.” Deciding the right one must be the bar, she pushed the door open and went inside.

It was bright inside, and she could hear someone humming, yet obviously out of sight, because the bar was empty. Then she noticed a blond head reflected in the mirror behind the bar.

As she walked closer, she called out, “Hello! Hello! Is there anyone here?”

By the time she reached the bar itself, the blond head had become a pretty face as the woman had stood up. “Good day ter ye, miss. What can I get ye?”

“Oh, nothing, thank you. I am looking for a person, not a drink.”

“And who ye lookin’ for then?”

“Miss Rosie. Do you know her? It’s important I find her. Very important.”

“Ye have, love. I’m Rosie. The one and only. And why are ye seeking me out? I don’t know ye, do I?”

“Oh, Miss Rosie, I’m so pleased I found you,” Emma gushed, the Wainright voice intact. “It was Blackie O’Neill who told me to come here, because you would know where he was. And I do need to find him today.”

“Oh, lovey, ye’ve just missed him, and only by a few days. He’s gone to Liverpool, to take the boat to Ireland. I’m sorry.”

Emma couldn’t help it, her face fell and she could not speak for a moment. She was shocked. All she could think of was that she was in a huge city she didn’t know, and without a friend or even an acquaintance in sight. And nowhere to go.

Looking at her intently, Rosie, wise to the ways of the world and those who occupied it, knew this young woman was upset. In fact, she had a stricken expression in the most beautiful eyes Rosie had ever seen. Very green, truly emerald eyes. And a pretty face and posh clothes. What had that Blackie boy been up to? Certainly, he wouldn’t have been able to resist this lovely. She was no doubt irresistible to men, with that face and figure.

Rosie finally said, “Summat about going to see an old priest who was very badly, mebbe dying.”

“Oh no!” Emma cried out before she could stop herself, clutching the edge of the bar. Her heart sank. Whatever was she going to do? The possibility that Blackie would be away had never occurred to her. She was so shaken she found it difficult to speak.

“What about Blackie’s uncle Pat? Could I go and see him and find out when Blackie is returning? He is, isn’t he?”

“Oh yes, love, but it won’t do ye any good going to see Pat. He’s away in Doncaster on a right big building job.”

The girl was obviously troubled.