She would not venture out of the night. She did not know what she was capable of if she came face to face with him. On top of everything else they were taking her child to live far away from her. It was this, more than anything, that broke her heart.

Henry watched Kerry singing and was enthralled by her. He had had a lot to drink and now he felt a rosy glow enveloping him.

He walked unsteadily towards the stage and clasped his hands as the girl sang. She was singing a slow song now, and all the men and women around him were listening to the haunting voice, enjoying the sound and the timbre of it. Her little elfin face was captivating to him. He saw the jet black silky hair that framed it and felt a stabbing pain in his heart. She was exquisite.

As Kerry finished her last number, she bowed to the audience who clapped her whole-heartedly. She was as good as any of the singers at Drury Lane, or indeed at any music hall. And she was no more than a child. A large man in the front of the audience, loving the ballad she sang, took out his purse and threw a sovereign on to the small stage. The other men in the room, not wanting to be outdone, did the same and Kerry scrambled around the floor in all her finery, picking up the coins.

The pianist began to play a solo number and Kerry picked up her money as fast as she could, amazed at the reception she had received and the generosity shown her. As she picked up the last coin, a plump hand covered hers and she looked into the face of Henry Dumas.

‘Hello, my dear. You really are a very good singer.’ In his drink-fuddled brain he knew she reminded him of someone but he couldn’t quite place who.

Kerry, though, knew him and, pulling her hand from under his, said: ‘Hello, Mr Dumas.’

Standing up, she walked across the little stage and back into the ante-room. She placed all the coins on the small table by the door and, taking off her gloves, began to count them. Henry Dumas followed her a few seconds later. Opening the door, he popped his head around it playfully, moustaches quivering in anticipation.

Kerry backed away from him.

‘How did you know my name, dear?’

Without thinking, she said: ‘I’m Briony’s sister.’

She watched him sober immediately as he registered exactly what she had said.

‘You’re Briony Cavanagh’s sister?’ His voice was full of surprise. As she opened her mouth to answer, he grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip.

‘Where is she? Is she here? Answer me, girl, where is the bitch?’

Kerry pulled away from him, rubbing her arm.

‘You touch me again, mister, and I’ll scream the bleeding place down!’

As she spoke Tommy came into the room.