‘You’re right. I have been pratting about but it’s over with now. I took a while to adjust to our new position but I think I’ve sorted meself out now. Come to terms with it like. I don’t want you to leave me, I don’t want to break up the partnership. I love you, Tommy, more than you will ever believe.’

For Briony to say she loved him in broad daylight in a crowded place spoke volumes to Tommy. Kissing her hand softly, he smiled at her.

‘What’s really wrong, Bri?’

‘I don’t know, Tommy. I found it all a bit scary, I think. Taking out Olds and Bolger, all that with Dumas. Everything just got on top of me and I couldn’t cope with it.’

‘And you can cope with it now?’

She smiled brightly. ‘Yes, I think I can. I’ve come to terms with meself, with what we did.’

Tommy squeezed the tiny hand in his and smiled gently. ‘I’ll look after you, darling, you should know that.’

She smiled and nodded. Tommy knew that Briony wasn’t as hard and calculating as she liked to make out. That she was just a young woman, for all her talk and her business acumen. She had taken the death of Ginelle hard, and the consequent deaths of Olds and Bolger and the others had given her many a sleepless night. He would stick by her, support her, and take the pressure off her for a while. She was his woman, his love, and whatever the right and wrongs of their life, he loved her desperately.

Briony pulled her hand from his. ‘Have a guess what I just done?’

‘What?’

She told him of her visit to Joshua and his mother, making it sound amusing, playing on the comic aspect instead of the real, frightening part of it. As they laughed together Tommy was aware that Briony’s laughter was a bit too high, her gaiety too brittle to be true. He would keep his eye on her. In fact, he’d watch her like a hawk.

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Henry Dumas sat up in the bed and made a pretence of reading the paper. Isabel watched him as she fussed around the room. His whole countenance was different, even his mouth had lost its arrogant sneer.

‘Anything interesting in the paper, Henry?’

He shook his head. ‘Not really.’

Isabel tidied the counterpane. ‘What about this new thing, sending people to Australia? I think it’s a wonderful idea.’

‘If it gets rid of the working class, then it can only be good.’