‘Huh, an’ I’m a monkey’s uncle! You don’t fool us, Amber Ainsley. It’s as clear as the nose on your face that the little ’un is yours! Just look at ’er! She’s the bloody spit out o’ your mouth an’ it don’t take much workin’ out, does it? Afore she were born you worked up at Greenacres an’ suddenly you up an’ leave for months to “care for your sick uncle?” Why, you must think we’re all dense. Next thing you know, when you come back he’s sendin’ you off to work for ’is posh friends afore settin’ you up in the nursery up there to care for his children. Admit it, lass. That girl there is yours an’ Greenwood’s bastard!’

Amber had reached them by now and without another word she scooped Charlotte, who was sitting quietly sucking her thumb, into her arms and swept into the shop.

The shopkeeper’s wife, Mrs King, had been a good friend of Amber’s mother and she asked gently, ‘What can I be gettin’ for you, lass?’

Amber handed her the list she had made and as the woman busied herself piling everything onto the counter, Amber cradled Charlotte to her. The shouting outside had clearly unnerved the little girl.

‘Right, that’s flour, a twist o’ tea, sugar . . .’ Mrs Richards ticked everything off and once she had paid her Amber started to carry everything out to the cart. Some of the women had drifted away but Mrs Preston was still there and ready to do battle if the look on her face was anything to go by.

‘It’s all your fault my poor lad ’as gone off the rails,’ she accused as Amber gently pressed Charlotte down amongst the groceries. ‘It were when you dumped ’im for better prospects that ’e changed.’

‘That’s rubbish. I never dumped him,’ Amber retaliated. ‘We were never together to begin with.’ With her nose in the air, she grasped the handle of the cart and turned it towards the butcher’s, but she’d gone no more than a few yards when she felt something hit her squarely between the shoulder blades and reaching round to her back to feel what it was she felt raw egg dripping down her blouse.

‘Go on, be off wi’ you,’ Mrs Preston shouted as she lifted another egg from her basket and aimed it at her target. ‘We don’t want scum like you comin’ into town mixin’ wi’ decent bloody folk. You’re nowt but a little whore!’