‘Well, I hope you never have to.’ Ma patted her hand and then nodded to her empty glass. ‘How about another refill and one of those nice mince pies you’ve made?’

Ma needed extra help to get to bed that night, because she’d worn herself out, and had a glass or two too many of her favourite stout.

‘That was a grand party,’ she sighed, closing her eyes. She was asleep before Jenny covered her up.

Jenny crept downstairs and began to clear up the mess. There was wrapping paper everywhere, glasses and plates. She was surprised to see Glad in the kitchen when she staggered in with her arms full of crockery.

‘Oh, Glad, don’t you bother with that. It won’t take me long to wash up.’

‘You’ll get through it quicker with two pair of hands.’ Glad filled the sink with hot water from the kettle she’d boiled up. ‘I’m pleased Ma gave you that brooch. She knows how hard you work and is grateful for the care you’re showing her. She’s right fond of you.’

‘And I am of her.’ Jenny stacked the plates on the table. ‘I didn’t like taking the gift, though, but she’d have given me a real telling off if I’d refused.’

Glad swished a glass through the water. ‘Ah, she would at that! But she really hasn’t got anyone else, Jen, and that’s the first time she’s mentioned her little daughter for many years. That was a sad loss to them, and they never had any more kids. She told me the other week that if her daughter had lived she hoped she would have grown to be just like you.’

‘I’m touched she thinks of me like that.’

After drying her hands, Glad leant against the sink and faced Jenny. ‘Don’t you take no notice of her growling; she’s very fond of you. She’s coming to the end of her time and is more ill than she makes out. I hope you’re going to stay with her, Jen.’

‘Nothing will make me leave her. I’ll stay for as long as she needs me.’

‘I thought you’d say that.’ Glad kissed Jenny on the cheek. ‘Now it’s time we both got some kip.’