Fancy didn’t want to. Her body seemed to sense that at any moment she would want to flee and needed to be in position to run as quickly as she could. Still, she couldn’t deny her mum’s simple request, so she eased down onto the edge of the chair across from her, but couldn’t relax as every muscle remained tense, awaiting a blow.

“He was the landlord, you see. While people paid when they left their babes with me to raise, it wasn’t enough to last years. Not able to leave my five wee ones alone, my options were limited for working. I didn’t read well and that put me at a disadvantage. Which is one of the reasons I’m so proud of you for your teaching.”

She’d known her mum struggled with reading, had no memory of ever seeing her read, of ever having her read to her.

“So I made matchboxes and did piecework. Your brothers and sister, as they got older, they began working. But still coins were often scarce, and when I didn’t have the money for the rent, well, he had other ways I could pay him.”

Her stomach roiling, Fancy slammed her eyes closed. “He hurt you.”

“He never raised a hand to me. Because I didn’t love him, it wasn’t pleasant having him touch me, but I couldn’t have my children put out on the street, now could I? Don’t cry, love.”

Her children. Children who had once belonged to others, to people who had brought them to her to care for. And she’d raised them as her own. Opening her eyes, she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “It was horrible, what he did. He needs to be punished.”

“Your brothers saw to that. You growing inside me couldn’t stay a secret for long, so I told them the truth. They were fourteen, big strapping lads. They took their fists to him. He never bothered me after that. Didn’t even ask for rent money anymore. Course, Mick eventually bought the properties around here.”

“Did Gillie know about my . . . about Dibble, as well?” She couldn’t attribute the word father to him.

Her mum nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“Because I never wanted you to be ashamed of where you come from. I never wanted you to doubt that you were a welcomed addition to my life. I loved you from the moment I realized you were going to be.”

Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed for all her mother had endured, for being forced to let that maggot touch her. And she wept for herself, because part of that man was inside her. Not a war hero for a father, not a grand love.