‘I bet you haven’t eaten a thing this morning, am I right?’ he teased Amy.

She smiled. ‘How did you know that?’

‘Because I haven’t either,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve been living on my nerves, not sure whether you’d come or whether you wouldn’t.’ Placing his two hands round her face, he kissed her tenderly. ‘I love you, Amy,’ he murmured. ‘You do know that, don’t you?’

Amy nodded. ‘I love you, too,’ she said, and held his hands so tight he thought she would never let go.

Still nervous in case they were seen by someone she knew, Amy only pecked at her food. ‘Where will we go, Jack?’ she wanted to know.

‘We’re going to my home. I have a place in Bedford, down in the south. I hope you’ll like it, Amy.’

‘Will Frank be able to track us down there?’ Her voice shook, and he knew the terror in her.

‘I don’t think so,’ he replied softly. ‘And even if he does, you’ve no need to be frightened. I can deal with Frank Tattersall. But I’ll promise you one thing: he’ll never hurt you again, not as long as I live!’

Breakfast done with, they climbed into Jack’s car and sat holding hands in the front like two young lovers.

‘I can’t believe I’m going away from Blackburn with you beside me.’ Jack had dreamed of this for so long, and now it was reality. He thought himself the luckiest man in the world.

‘Jack?’ Amy turned her pensive gaze on him.

‘What is it, sweetheart?’

‘Won’t you change your mind… about the children?’

Slowly, agonisingly, he shook his head. ‘I can’t.’

Leaning back in her seat, Amy let her thoughts wander to the children. In her mind’s eye she could see little Eddie, running round the parlour, his napkin round his ankles; and Bertha, laughing, always laughing. Then there was Milly and Georgie – and Molly. Oh Molly, what have I done to you?

But in spite of her sorrow, she could never go back. Not now she had found the courage to leave.

‘Amy?’ Seeing her distress, Jack’s heart went out to her. ‘Look at me, darling.’

When her brown eyes were uplifted to his, he affirmed his promise, but this time he wisely qualified it with, ‘While I have money, I won’t see them go without.’

Opening her heart to him, she asked, her voice raw, ‘Am I a selfish woman, Jack? Am I so wicked to leave them behind?’

Regarding her now, seeing how thin and pale she was, and how the pain of what Frank had done to her had dulled her pretty eyes and made her so desperate, he could hardly bear it. ‘There isn’t a selfish, wicked bone in your body,’ he said, ‘otherwise you’d have left him long since. Think about it, Amy. If you went back now, what would become of you?’

Amy knew already, for hadn’t she thought of it time and again, wishing there was an escape, hoping Frank would die and she might make some sort of a life without him.