Tommy had been very quiet, but suddenly said loudly, ‘Sarah, why has that man’s face melted?’

Sarah felt her cheeks burn and wished the floor would open up and swallow her. You couldn’t help but notice George’s scars, but she hadn’t expected Tommy to ask such a direct question.

As if sensing her awkwardness, George quickly responded. ‘I like a man who says it as it is. That’s right, lad, my face has melted, but it was a long time ago. I got injured in a fire, so you watch yourself and stay away from fires. You don’t want to end up looking like me now, do you?’

Tommy shook his head and asked, ‘What fire? Was it the Great Fire of London?’

‘Tommy, that’s enough. It’s rude to ask questions. Now say you’re sorry,’ Sarah chastised.

‘Sorry,’ Tommy said and pouted.

‘No need. Now, I’m sure I’ve got something in that box that’ll be good for you,’ George said and pointed to a crate under his stall. ‘Have a look through there and see if you can find yourself something to wear instead of that old blanket.’

Tommy got down on his bare, dirty knees and began delving.

‘Right, let’s have a look at this bracelet you’re selling. My old mum loves a bit of gold and her birthday’s coming up soon,’ George said, clapping his hands together.

Sarah took the bracelet from her pocket and handed it to George. ‘Honest, I did find it. Tommy spotted it down on the river banks off the bridge. I didn’t steal it, I wouldn’t.’

‘It’s all right, I believe you, thousands wouldn’t,’ George said. ‘Tell you what though, I’ve never seen anything quite as fancy as this. It must be worth a fortune. How much do you want for it?’

Sarah knew it was worth much more than she could ask, but she didn’t care. She’d take whatever she could get. She pulled a figure from the air and answered, ‘Ten pounds.’

George coughed and for a moment, Sarah thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

‘Well, I wouldn’t normally spend that much money on a pressie for my mum, but—’

Sarah quickly interrupted, worried she was about to lose her sale. ‘Five pounds,’ she said.

‘Whoa, slow down, girl. I was going to say—’

Once again Sarah cut in. ‘OK, three pounds but that’s my final offer.’