‘But that’s not the point, he’s only a boy and shouldn’t hear or be saying things like that. Tisn’t proper.’

‘Trouble with you, Jack,’ Heather returned angrily, ‘is you take all that preachin’ you listen to to ’eart. Be up in that buildin’ yonder when tes finished, bleatin’ with the rest of the sheep. Be a preacher yerself one day, I shouldn’t wonder.’

‘Wouldn’t hurt you none to listen to some of it,’ Jack said peevishly.

‘What! All that prayin’ ’n’ stuff! You won’t catch me steppin’ over Jeb Bray’s threshold or no meetin’ ’ouse. Silly old sod called me sister the other night. I don’t want nothin’ t’do with bein’ converted, whatever that means,’ Heather hooted. ‘You want t’be careful, Jack, it sounds ruddy painful t’me.’

Jack squarely faced the smirking girl. ‘You don’t half say some awful things, Heather. Don’t you ever want to better yourself, be more like a lady?’

The bal-maiden’s expression changed to fury. ‘If you don’t like me just the way I am, Jack, you can git yer arse back on that bloody pony and go to hell!’

She made to storm after her friends but Jack grabbed her arm. She twisted and struggled and Jack moved his legs smartly to avoid a kick. ‘No, no, please, Heather, I’m sorry. Don’t go off in a huff. I have to go myself in a minute anyway to catch up with Master Luke ’n’ Master Kane. Please stay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.’

Heather forgot her wrath. She stared into Jack’s anxious face as if attempting to learn a secret from its sharp lines. ‘What the bloody ’ell’s yer other name anyway? I only know thee as Jack. Never ’eard nobody call ’ee anythin’ but Jack.’

The clouds had been gradually returning, the light dimming and now a mist was making the air chilly and damp. Heather pulled her shawl in tighter and it accentuated her well-rounded figure. Jack tore his eyes away from her bosom and looked into her face. Her gipsy-wild hair, full of thick flowing crinkly waves, was sprinkled with drops of moisture and Jack wanted to touch it.

He gulped in a mouthful of air to help dampen down his ardour and answered her question before she changed mood again and screamed at him. ‘I haven’t got one,’ he said quietly.

‘What? Got no name? Why on earth not? Everybody’s got a first name and a last name, even we poor mining folk. What’s ’appened to yours then? The piskies come and steal it from ’ee?’