At first she had doubted her own eyes, but there was no doubt now. It was the same Jack the Lad! With the same, wonderful smile that lit his eyes and had taken her heart all those years ago. But what was he doing here? Had he no shame?

‘Well, my beauty, are you going to ask me in, or what?’ He took a step forward but stopped when she drew the door to, barring his way. ‘Ah, don’t turn me away, Amy. Not now, when I’ve come to make amends.’

He tugged at his clothes. ‘I’ve been outside for ages, plucking up the courage to knock on your door. Look! I’m soaked to the skin. Likely to get pneumonia if you don’t let me in.’

A kind of longing washed over her, but fear gripped deeper. ‘Soaked to the skin or not, you look like you’ve done all right for yourself.’ Her glance swept past his disappointed face to the smart black car parked at the kerbside. ‘Yours, is it?’

‘Bought and paid for.’ A sneak of pride coloured his weathered features.

‘Hmh!’ His pride touched her deeply. ‘Like I said, you’ve done well.’

He shrugged. ‘Well enough.’

She noticed his expensive overcoat and his smart suit. Then she saw the confident gleam in his eye and her fears were heightened. ‘All right, Jack – out with it. What do you want with me?’

‘Trust me, Amy,’ he pleaded. ‘It’s not like it used to be.’ He gave a deep sigh, his gaze downcast for a brief second or two. ‘All right, I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve learned the hard way. And yes, you’re right,’ he gestured at the overcoat and at the car, ‘I’ve made a pot of money, but it’s not been easy. I’ve been through the mill, gal. I’ve changed… grown up. Everything I’ve got was earned through my own sweat and tears.’

Amy felt herself weaken, but she persisted. ‘You still haven’t told me why you’re here.’

‘Can’t you guess?’ Reaching out, he touched her hand, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil he was causing in her emotions. ‘I’m here for you!’ His quiet gaze found hers. ‘I’m here to put things right between us, to make up for what I did all those years ago.’

She wanted to believe him, but the old fear was strong. ‘Go away, Jack!’ she told him. ‘I don’t want any trouble.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m not here to cause trouble.’

She laughed – a hard, accusing sound. ‘You were always trouble!’

The slight tug on her skirt made Amy look down; it was her two-year-old son, Eddie. ‘All right,’ she told the infant. ‘Go to Lottie now, there’s a good lad. Mammy won’t be long.’

Looking backwards past Eddie, she saw the other children sitting on the stairs. Beckoning to the oldest one, she asked her to take the little boy into the kitchen. ‘I’ll not be a minute,’ she promised.

Returning her attention to Jack, she told him firmly, ‘You’d best go. I’ve things to do. Besides, Frank will be home any time now. If he finds you here, there’s no telling what might happen!’