‘Right away.’ Blackie jumped out of the chair and followed her across the room. The cold room was indeed cold, certainly that was a better name for it than larder.

‘That big pot, over there on the shelf … do ye see it?’

He nodded. ‘Come out, please, Mrs Martha, and then I’ll be able to reach it better, take it out.’

She did as he asked. A moment later Blackie lifted the pot with both hands, asking her, ‘Where do ye want it?’

‘Over here,’ she explained, pointing to the sink. ‘I’ve got to rinse ’em, ye see, clean off the salt.’

Blackie stood and watched her wash off the pieces of rabbit. ‘I added all sorts of spices … pepper, lavender and nutmeg – just pinches of it. Now I must take out all the vegetables and cook the pieces of rabbit for a bit. Later, ye can help me put the vegetables back in.’

Blackie said, ‘I know they can’t go in the pot now. They’ll become too soft.’

Mrs O’Malley beamed at him. ‘I see that ye learned a lot from me.’

He laughed. ‘There’s no better way than to stand at the knee of the master,’ he said. ‘And I’ve been by your side for years.’

She simply nodded. ‘I’m going to take the kettle off and ye can carry the cooking pot to the fire. Put it on the hob in its place.’

‘I will do that. And when the rabbit is stewed, it will go in the oven, under the dough. And we’ll soon have a pie. Correct?’

‘Exactly,’ Mrs O’Malley agreed, stepping aside so Blackie could have an easy passageway across the kitchen with the pot.

Once the pot was hanging over the fire, Blackie went back to his chair, staring into the flames once more. Within seconds he was daydreaming about his future, wondering how he would fare in Leeds. He was also feeling slightly curious about Joe O’Donnell and the gift of the rabbits.

A thought took hold. Might she not be lonely when he left? Perhaps no, perhaps not at all. She would miss his presence in her life, and maybe Joe O’Donnell could become her friend, keep her company. Another thought struck him. Joe could already be her friend.

That might not be a bad idea after all. Loneliness was a terrible thing, a burden beyond belief. To be entirely alone in this world made life difficult. He had often experienced this feeling after each member of his family had died.

When Bronagh had passed away, his days and nights had become intolerable. He’d felt as if part of himself had been cut away and there was only half of him left to grieve for her.