‘I want you to help me.’

‘In what way?’

‘When Alfie finds out what’s happened, he might think it his duty to take me and the children on.’

‘It’s likely.’ Rosie knew her son. ‘Sure, he loves you enough to do something like that.’

Molly was sad, but adamant. ‘It wouldn’t work, Rosie. It wouldn’t be fair on him, and in the end, it might come between us, and that would break my heart. Besides, knowing our dad, he would probably forbid me to take the children, and fetch in one of his tarts to look after them. I couldn’t stand by and watch that happen.’

‘So, what’s on your mind then?’

Molly hesitated. What she had planned would split her and Alfie apart, maybe for ever. But what choice did she have? What choice had her mam left her? With a heavy heart, she outlined her plan. ‘I have to make Alfie believe I don’t love him enough to get wed, or to go to America with him.’

‘That’s a bit drastic.’

‘It’s the only way.’ Molly was thinking of Alfie and his dreams. ‘You want him to go to America, don’t you, Rosie?’

‘You know I do.’

‘You said yourself, if he keeps on with the street-fighting, he could be maimed, or even killed. I don’t want that and neither do you. If his only chance of getting off the streets is to take up the offer of America, I don’t have the right to stand in his way, you must see that.’

‘Yes, I see that, but it’s not fair on you. What you’re saying is, let him think there’s no hope of you and him ever getting wed, and he’ll go to America without you. Only he’ll be devastated.’ Rosie knew it was a terrible sacrifice for Molly to make. ‘I can’t let you do it,’ she said. ‘Not to him and not to yourself.’

Molly was desperate. ‘So you want him to be lumbered with four children that don’t belong to him, plus Lottie, taking on another man’s responsibility, and street-fighting until he’s crippled or worse? Because that’s what it will come to in the end.’ Molly had to convince her or Alfie was lost, and his dreams with him.

Rosie couldn’t deny it. ‘Oh lass, I’m so afraid for him.’

‘Then help me. Please, Rosie… help me!’

Lost for words, Rosie dropped her head to her hands, and for the first time in years, she cried shamelessly, partly through guilt, partly relief. ‘It’s a wicked thing your mam’s done, so it is.’ Sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with a hankie handed to her by Molly, she said fondly, ‘You’re a special person, dear, to put my lad before yourself, especially when you could have him taking care of you and the children both.’

‘I can’t let him do it, and you wouldn’t want me to. He’s too young to be burdened like that. Besides, it’s not for him to make the sacrifice. What’s happened in this house is nothing to do with him. Alfie has his dreams and he has a right to see them come true.’