‘Moira Aherne needs looking after, getting to safety,’ Blackie said, glancing at Finn. ‘And we’ll do that, Finn. I swear on the head of the Blessed Saints I’ll do that, and ye all will. Correct?’

‘Absolutely,’ Patrick answered at once. ‘That was the reason we came here …’ He stopped speaking as footsteps were heard and Mrs Walton appeared, holding the arm of Moira. ‘This is Miss Moira Aherne, Mr Kennedy.’ She gave the girl a small push.

Moira walked across the floor towards him, her face serious.

Patrick was stunned by her looks and quite speechless when she drew to a halt in front of him. She stretched out her hand to him, and said, ‘I’m very glad to meet you.’ Her voice was low and melodic.

Patrick took her hand, cool to the touch, and managed to return her greeting. ‘And I’m happy to meet you, too.’

He found himself holding onto her hand, gazing at her, mesmerized. She was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful young women he had ever seen. Her hair was an almost white-blonde, her eyes pale grey and translucent, her face exquisite with delicate features.

Finn stepped forward and introduced himself. As she turned to him and took his hand, he felt himself blushing. ‘I’m Finn, Miss Aherne, Tommy’s friend.’

‘Oh, it’s lovely to meet you, Finn,’ she replied, a smile on her face. ‘Call me Moira, please. He’s said such nice things about you. And thanks for agreeing to take me away from the Bank.’

Finn swallowed, nodded, and finally said, ‘I’m happy to help you.’

Jack Blane, as astonished as the others by the young woman’s beauty and poise, came over to join them, followed by Blackie.

‘I’m Jack Blane, Moira. Call me Jack, and ask me for anything. I’ll do it if I can.’

Once again, she smiled and then thanked him graciously. A moment later, Blackie was shaking her hand and giving her his name.

‘And that’s a nickname, I think,’ Moira said, laughter echoing in her voice. ‘What’s your real name?’

‘Shane Patrick Desmond O’Neill, but the whole world does call me Blackie.’

‘Because you’re Black Irish, descended from the Spanish sailors, who crawled onto Irish soil to survive at the time the Spanish Armada foundered on the rocks in the Irish Sea.’

Blackie chuckled. ‘’Tis true, to be sure it is, and I want to welcome ye to Leeds. I am at your service, Moira.’

‘And now we should leave and be on our way to Upper Armley,’ Patrick announced. ‘Do you have your things ready, Moira?’

‘I do, yes, thank you, Mr Kennedy. I’m packed. My carpetbag is over there by the door. I don’t have much.’

Patrick nodded and walked over to Jane and Stephen Walton. ‘Thank you both for looking after Moira.’