Rita died late that night and Ruby felt as if her whole world had fallen apart. She was buried in Chilvers Coton churchyard the week before Christmas when the ground was covered in snow and so hard that it took two men almost a whole day to dig the grave. There was no wake because Stan said that it was a waste of money, and that night Ruby sat wrapped in misery at the side of the fire. Eventually she sank into a light doze only to jump awake as Bill’s hand roughly shook her shoulder.

Blinking up at him she was surprised to see in the dim glow from the fire that he was clad in only his nightshirt and she frowned. He had been drinking steadily ever since they’d returned home and now his fetid breath fanned her cheek.

‘Wh-what is it? What do yer want?’ she muttered as she struggled to sit upright in the chair. Her heart was thudding uncomfortably and she felt uneasy. Why was he looking at her like that?

‘Now then, me little beauty,’ he slurred. ‘Now yer mam ’ash gone I reckon it’s time fer you to take her place. Come on up to bed wi’ me, there’sh a good girl.’

Ruby shook her head vehemently. ‘N-no. I have to be up at four to light the ovens so I’m stayin’ in ’ere tonight,’ she choked as sweat stood out on her brow.

‘Oh no you ain’t.’ He chuckled. ‘Tonight yer goin’ to keep yer old dad warm in bed.’ As his hand snaked out and roughly tweaked her tiny developing breasts, she shrank away from him. But before she could move, he took her arm in a vice-like grip and he was dragging her behind him up the stairs. Once inside the bedroom her mother had died in only days before, he flung her roughly onto the bed as she sobbed with terror. And then in a single movement he snatched his nightshirt off and stood before her naked, his manhood standing to attention. He was on top of her in seconds and although she fought for all she was worth, he soon prised her thin legs apart and thrust himself into her making her scream with pain.