Nothing would ever seem better for the rest of her life. The thought brought with it the hot sting of tears at the backs of her eyes but before they could fall she blinked furiously. Now was not the time to give way. They had things to do, to sort out, and she had to get on with it. She had Ellie – she wasn’t completely alone, even though she was gripped by such a feeling of utter and absolute loneliness that she would like to go to sleep and never wake up. The thought of having to go on, to find her way through a future that seemed barren and empty and devoid of everything she had ever wanted, had drained her to the core. And this wasn’t her fault; she hadn’t done anything wrong. She had loved Adam; she’d even loved Olive, come to that.

For a moment the flood of self-pity swamped her, making her want to howl and scream like a hurt child and shout against the unfairness and the arid months and years ahead.

‘Ruby?’ Ellie’s voice brought her out of the maelstrom of pain and despair, and turning she found her friend staring at her with anxious eyes. She breathed out slowly, fighting for composure. She had always been the strong one in their relationship, the comforter and fixer, the one who sorted things out, and Ellie was waiting for her to take control now, to tell her what to do.

‘Don’t light the fire yet,’ she said in a voice that surprised her with its calmness. ‘We’ll go out and get something to eat first. There was a pie shop on the corner of the street, we’ll go there. We’ll see to the fire and make the bed up when we come back, and come Monday we’ll get some groceries and more coal and perhaps a thick eiderdown for the bed and a rug for the floor, before we look for work. We’ll be all right, Ellie. Don’t worry.’

Ellie nodded in relief. This was the Ruby she knew. Her friend never let anything get her down for long; Ruby would bounce back. She was tough, always had been. She would be fine.

Ruby knew exactly what Ellie was thinking and it added to the weight on her shoulders. Turning away, she reached for her handbag. ‘Come on,’ she said dully. ‘We’d better get what we need before the shops shut. We’ll buy enough for tomorrow too, it being a Sunday. I can’t see Mrs Duffy helping us out with any food.’ Or anything else for that matter. But that was the way it was going to be from now on, and the sooner she got used to it the better. She had made the decision to leave Mrs Walton’s and strike out on her own; no one had forced her to come to Newcastle.