Bertha giggled. ‘Georgie told him that, but when he went to the scullery he dropped the pan, and the bottle rolled under the sink and he had to scald it all over again. He wasn’t going to though, until Georgie said he’d tell you if he didn’t.’

‘It weren’t our fault if Eddie kept on screaming an ’ screaming,’ Georgie declared with a grown-up sigh.

Molly glanced at Eddie, who by now was fast asleep in his pram. She gave a chuckle. It was wonderful, she thought, how children could make you smile through your tears.

Bertha made her laugh out loud, though. ‘Why did he run off like that?’

‘Because he’s a man,’ Molly replied with a smile. ‘And because you lot frightened the pants off him.’

Satisfied, they ran off to resume their game of hide and seek, the yelling and screaming getting so loud that Molly had to reprimand them. ‘Ssh, not so noisy. You’ll wake the bairn!’

She could see why her dad couldn’t wait to get out, especially if Eddie had been screaming for his bottle an’ all. ‘Poor man!’ The image of him running out the door made her laugh again.

Then another, stronger image came to mind: the haunting memory of Sandra, sitting in that very chair, telling her how much she loved Dave, and how she was carrying his child. Now Molly was consumed with guilt. ‘Oh, lass. How was I to know the fella you were trying to track down was the same one our Lottie had settled for?’

Going to the sideboard, she took down the letter received from Lottie only the day before:

I’m sorry, Molly. Me and Dave want to say our goodbyes to Sandra, but we can’t face coming to St Mary’s.

We’ll go into the church in Bridport and light a candle. I’m so sorry, and Dave is, too. Later on, we’ll come and see you. But not yet. It’s too soon.

Please tell Rosie how sorry we are. She’s a good woman, and a good friend to you… a better friend than I’ve been.

I do love you both,

Lottie

XXX

Molly replaced the letter in its envelope. ‘Funny how things turn out,’ she murmured. ‘Sandra and Lottie… both loving the same fella.’

It had all come as a big shock. ‘Did you tell him, Sandra?’ she murmured. ‘Did you tell him about the bairn?’

As for herself, she had told no one. Not even Rosie, though during this past week there had been times when she had come close to it. But each time, the thought of her promise to Sandra had kept her silent.

When Rosie came round some half an hour later, it was to talk about Sandra. ‘I’ve a confession to make.’ Settling herself into the chair, she refused when Molly offered her a brew. ‘No, lass. I’ve something to tell you, and I’d better do it quick or sure I might not tell ye at all.’

Molly’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Whatever is it?’ In that brief, unguarded second, when Rosie looked at her with such distress, Molly was convinced it had something to do with Alfie.