Leaving Kernick with Ned Angove, the blacksmith, she meandered down the long street, hoping to be anonymous among the people. It had grown very cold and with her cloak pulled in tight and her head bowed she hoped no one would recognise her. There was no market today and few people were about but she was stopped by Sarah Harrt, the coroner’s wife, who subjected her to an unwelcome twenty minutes of useless gossip. She also met Rosina Blake rushing home out of the cold with Simon Peter. Rosina was very concerned about Kerensa, who looked unwell, and implored her to go with her and her son to the rooms they still kept for convenient use over the shoemaker’s. But Kerensa firmly declined a dish of tea by the fire and Rosina reluctantly bid her a blessed New Year and went on her way.

Kerensa wandered in and out of the shops and for no particular reason bought a half-dozen yeast buns in a baker’s shop. As she left the shop a spit of freezing rain began to fall and as it gained momentum people disappeared as if by magic. Kerensa hugged her bag of buns under her cloak and ran over the increasingly muddy ground on her way to collect Kernick. It would be wonderfully warm in the smithy and she intended to ask Ned for a secluded corner to take refuge in until the rain stopped. Ned’s wife continually presented him with huge mugs of steaming hot black tea and Kerensa saw a cosy picture of herself drinking tea with them while sharing the yeast buns. Perhaps it would be just the thing to warm her soul and give her strength to face Oliver again.

She rounded the corner of the Commercial Inn and was brought to a jarring halt. A cold blast of terror coursed through her veins. A filthy, ugly man was barring her progress, a man she had hoped she would never see again for the rest of her life.

‘What are you doing here?’ she gasped.

‘Thought t’ave seen the last of me, did ’ee, pretty lady?’

‘Get out of my way!’ Kerensa screamed, fighting to control her trembling.

‘Now that’s no way to speak to an’ ol’ friend, me ’an’some,’ the man grinned.

‘Friend! If my husband knew you were here he would probably kill you!’

‘Now that’s not very nice of ’ee, sweet’eart, an’ you oughta be nice to me.’

Kerensa whirled round and stormed off the way she had come, her face white with shock.

‘’Ow’s that son of mine?’ the man called after her with a malicious laugh.

She froze. He tramped round and faced her. ‘Deaf, are ’ee? ’Ow’s my little boy keepin’?’

‘What do you care, you vile creature!’ Kerensa hurled at him, shaking with fear, anger and disgust.

‘’E’s my son, ain’t ’e?’