‘Then let it brew. Once it affects my businesses, I’ll take an interest. My betting boys have never done so well, so there’s money somewhere. But then there’s always money for a bet, even when there ain’t none to feed their kids. That’s my working class, Mariah. A pint of Watney’s, jellied eels or pie and mash, and a bet on a Saturday night. The old woman in best bib and tucker down the local with the old man, a few gins, a good row or a good fuck, depending. Those are the people you’re talking about. Christ almighty, what do you want from me? I ain’t interested in those people. I give to charity, I do me bit for the orphans, and I also make sure no one on my manor goes too hungry. That is it. I ain’t old JC himself, and quite frankly, I don’t want to be. So drop all your bleeding hearts’ speeches and let’s get the bloody Manor up and running.’

Mariah nodded in agreement. ‘All right, I was only saying! How’s Kerry and Lissy, by the way?’ Mariah’s voice was genuinely interested. Lissy had captured the heart of everyone she came into contact with.

‘Oh, she’s great, my Lissy. You want to see her now. She’s growing by the day. Her eyes are like dark pools. Honestly, Mariah, she’s exquisite. Clever and all! She pulls her head up to look round. Now would you credit that, not four months old yet?’

‘She’s strong, I felt her grip last time I saw her. She’ll be a beauty and all. That long black hair. I’ve never seen such hair on a child.’

Briony smiled widely.

‘And how’s Eileen faring?’

Briony’s smile faded.

‘She ain’t right, Mariah. Due any day, too. That nun’s coming tonight, Sister Mary Magdalene. I think she’ll be a great help. Eileen really thinks the world of her, she can get through to her. But she’s so thin! No matter what you give her to eat, she don’t put on a pound. All she has is this great big belly, and her arms and legs are stick thin! She looks weird.’

Mariah nearly said ‘She is weird’, but stopped herself. She couldn’t take to Eileen but could never tell that to Briony.

‘What’s the doctor said?’

Briony shrugged. ‘Not a lot. Just that her nerves are not all they could be. She drinks port wine every day for her blood and eats plenty of liver, once more for her blood, and takes a lot of rest. In fact, she ain’t got out of bed this last three weeks. I reckon she should be made to have a walk or something. The room stinks of her. I know that’s horrible but it’s a bitter smell. It’s in her sweat, I think.’