‘I know, lass.’ Rosie had seen Molly torn apart, and she had seen the same with Alfie. She had almost blurted out the truth to him today, about Molly and Amy, and everything. But common sense prevailed, and she let it go. To tell him now would be to undo everything she and Molly had planned between them.

Molly seemed to have read her thoughts. ‘You must never tell him,’ she urged. ‘Let him go back knowing nothing.’

Rosie nodded. ‘Ah, sure, I’ll not tell him, don’t worry.’ Getting out of her chair, she said wearily, ‘I’d best get back, lass. Dad’ll be wondering where I am. Mustn’t leave him alone too long.’

‘How is Michael?’

Rosie’s face clouded over. ‘Not good, love. Not good at all. He’s up one minute and down the next. This past week has really knocked the stuffing out of him.’

‘Give him my love, and tell him I’ll come and see him when Alfie’s gone back.’ She couldn’t risk bumping into him again, or she might spill out the truth and that would never do. It had gone too far for that.

Rosie said she understood. ‘You look tired, lass. What say I come round and give ye a hand with the bairns tonight?’ She gave a little chuckle. ‘You wash and I’ll wipe, eh? Then we’ll get them into their beds and have a good old chinwag over a brew. What d’ye say?’

‘Sounds good to me, Rosie. Thanks.’

‘See ye later then.’ And off she went, with a heavy heart, back to her sorrowful home and menfolk. All the light had gone out of their household, for the time being at least.

By the time Rosie made a reappearance, Molly had fed the children, baked a meat and potato pie for her dad, changed the beds, blackleaded the range, and done the washing. Right now, keeping busy was the only way she could cope.

Assailed by the delicious aroma of newly baked meat pie, Rosie looked at the shining range and the pile of freshly washed bedclothes and was astounded. ‘You’ve been busy, haven’t ye?’ she exclaimed.

‘Got to keep on top of it all,’ Molly replied. ‘With our new job taking up hours in the day, the housework has a funny way of creeping up on you when you’re not looking.’

Not for the first time, Rosie took a discreet look at Molly and was more worried than ever; the girl was thinner, peaky-looking, and just now with the sweat glistening on her face, she looked positively worn out.

‘Stop a minute, love.’ Molly was turning the vegetables on the stove top. ‘You look beat, so ye do.’

Leaning against the door jamb, she addressed Molly in a motherly voice. ‘Nobody knows more than I do what you’ve had to endure, what with your mam shifting her own burden to your young shoulders, then your da giving you grief whenever you ask him for money. The children, our Sandra, and now Alfie going back tomorrow…’ She sighed. ‘Don’t punish yourself, darlin’. You’ve nothing to blame yourself for.’