Rosie smiled. ‘God bless yer, lass,’ she murmured. ‘It’s only what ye deserve, so it is.’

Christmas Day was one of the best ever, despite Amy Tattersall’s absence.

Thanks to Granny Arkwright, there was a small tree and some trimmings. With some of her savings, Molly had bought and hidden a scarf each for Rosie, Sandra, Michael and her father, together with a little present for each of the children; all bought from the market and all very much appreciated.

There were two rag dolls, one for Bertha and one for Milly, though Molly wisely bought one with red hair and one with brown, so the girls could tell them apart.

Georgie had a wooden engine that screeched when you blew into its tail end. Eddie had a little duck that quacked when pulled along, and everybody opened their presents amid much laughter and fun.

Molly received a knitted jumper from Rosie and a matching bobble hat from Sandra; Michael Noonan, Rosie’s father, gave her two bob to, ‘Get yesel’ a nice treat, me darlin’.’

Sandra rather unkindly told him that Molly wouldn’t be able to buy much with two bob, but her friend thanked him graciously and said she had seen a pair of gloves that would match her jumper and scarf. ‘And I’ll still have a penny change.’ She was fibbing to save his pride, but it got her a thank you and a kiss.

From the children she received the best present of all. ‘It’s really special,’ Milly said, and so it was.

‘It’s beautiful!’ Molly exclaimed. The children had made a large pencil drawing of her, complete with big droopy eyes and flyaway hair, one arm longer than the other and a skirt up to her backside. Her odd-sized feet were like clogs and there was a smile on her face that would frighten the dead.

Really, it was a comical thing, but it brought a lump to her throat as she hung it on the wall with pride.

Rosie looked at it from all angles. ‘It looks like the scarecrow in Ted Bateman’s allotment,’ she spluttered into Molly’s ear. But Molly didn’t care if it looked like the bogey man himself. The children had spent time drawing it with her in mind, and that was wonderful.

There was nothing for Amy and no mention of her from the children. To Molly, that was a sad, sad thing.

When the day was over and Rosie gone, with her dad and Sandra, too, Molly put the weary children to bed and sat by the fire, thinking of her mam and the way she had sent money to the door. ‘I won’t need your money now, Mam,’ she said bitterly. ‘Not while I’ve got health and strength and two good arms to work with.’

After a while, her thoughts turned yearningly to Alfie.

Going to the dresser she took out the bottle of elderberry wine, bought by Rosie and half-emptied by Alfie’s grandaddy. Pouring herself a drop, Molly raised the cup with the greeting, ‘Happy Christmas, Alfie, wherever you are.’ She took one sip and placed the cup in the hearth.