‘The days seem to be passin’ in the blink of an eye,’ Cook complained as she bustled about putting the last-minute touches to the evening meal. She had made a large pan of turkey stew with leftovers and fluffy dumplings, which smelled absolutely delicious. Waste not want not, was Cook’s motto and Ruby was continually surprised that she seemed able to make a tasty meal from almost nothing. She and Hermione would be setting off back to Bedworth in the morning and although Ruby had enjoyed her stay immensely, she thought of Hermione’s house as home now and would be happy to go back to it.

*

‘Don’t leave it too long,’ Cook told her the next morning as Ruby kissed her goodbye. Ruby nodded as she tripped out to the carriage where Hermione was already waiting for her. Bill helped her inside and then climbing up onto the driver’s box he steered the horse towards the railway station. He was half hoping that the trains would be cancelled because of the snow but to his disappointment, although the trains were slightly delayed, they were all still running.

‘Right . . . well take care of yourself and I’ll hopefully see you again soon,’ he told Ruby self-consciously as he helped her down from the coach. The cold air had made her cheeks glow and he thought he had never seen a more beautiful girl. Hermione meanwhile was looking on with an indulgent smile. If she wasn’t very much mistaken that young man was greatly taken with young Ruby. But then Ruby was turning into a very pretty young woman and Hermione had no doubt there would be a lot of young men who would feel the same before very much longer.

Ruby was suspiciously quiet on the train home and eventually Hermione asked, ‘Is everything all right, Ruby?’

‘What . . . ? Oh, er, yes thank you.’ Her mind had been miles away and now she stared at Hermione thoughtfully for a moment before confiding, ‘I was just wondering about who my real mother was again . . . although I think I might know.’

‘Really?’ Hermione looked shocked. ‘And who might that be then?’

‘I . . . I have an idea that it might be Maddie . . . Mrs Bamber from Vittoria Street. Why else would she have taken me in as she did?’

Hermione looked almost relieved as she shook her head. ‘I think you’re barking up the wrong tree good and properly there,’ she said. ‘And if I were you, I would drop this silly idea of finding your birth mother. I know you’ve had it hard in the past but you’re comfortable now with a wonderful career ahead of you. Why can’t you let that be enough?’

‘Because . . .’ Ruby shrugged. ‘Because there’s this ache in here.’ She touched her chest. ‘I just want to know who she is and why she didn’t want me.’