‘It’s your voice! Just now you sounded like the bloody Queen. Now you’re speaking like any other street slut.’

Briony felt herself pale and this was not lost on the boy either.

‘What did you just say?’

He hastened to make amends.

‘I didn’t mean that how it come out.’

She pushed her hands into her muff with such force she ripped the lining and the sound in the quiet of the cab was like a pistol going off.

The boy ran his hands through his hair. Realising his mistake, he tried to make it up to her.

‘I’m Tom Lane, Tommy to me mates. Thanks for helping me out like. I’ppreciate it.’

Briony looked at his handsome but dirty face, and thawed a bit.

‘I’m Briony Cavanagh.’

He grinned then, showing big strong white teeth. He settled back in the cab and Briony found herself grinning too.

‘Where do you live then?’

Briony swallowed deeply before answering. ‘I live in Oxlow Lane, but I work in a big house, just round the corner from Barking Park.’There was no way she was giving him an address, he looked the type to turn up there. The thought thrilled and frightened her at the same time.

‘Oxlow Lane, you say? That where you’re going now?’

Briony nodded. ‘I’m going to visit me family.’

Tom nodded and looked her over from head to toe. A nice-looking piece, he thought, but too well dressed for service. She was on the bash or his name wasn’t Tom Lane. He had two sisters and a mother on the game and neither of them had hit the big money like this one. But he didn’t tell her his thoughts. He liked her, he liked her a lot, especially for saving his neck.

‘How old are you then?’

Briony tossed her head and looked out at the passing road. ‘Old enough. You?’

Tommy grinned again. ‘Older than that, girl.’ He glanced outside and saw that they were at the Longbridge Road. ‘You can let me down here.’ He banged on the wooden side and the driver slowed the horse.

‘Tara then, Briony Cavanagh.’

‘’Bye, Tommy Lane.’

He hopped from the cab, and before shutting the door he winked at her. Briony watched him cross the wide road and make his way inside The Royal Oak. She saw him disappear inside the doorway and felt a moment’s sadness that he had gone. For some funny reason she liked him.

Tommy walked into the public house and ordered himself a pint of beer. His eyes travelled round the crowded bar looking for a face he knew. He saw a friend called Willy Gushing and walked over to him.

‘Hello, Willy, you’re looking well.’ And indeed Willy was looking well. He was wearing a suit more fitted to a lawyer than a petty criminal.

‘He looks like a pox doctor’s clerk, if you ask me.’