Ma was nonchalant, brushing the dust off the collar of his coat. Da’s brows were raised, waiting to hear what this man’s business was about. I saw Spencer taking in the smallness of us all. The low-ceilinged kitchen, where the smell of smoking fat from the hearth and its blackened griddle always lingered. The curtain, an offcut of fabric from the mill, which barely covered the entrance to the box-bed or concealed the musty scent of its blankets. The piles of fishing line in a crate, which gave off the whiff of old bait. The gloom we lived in, with one tiny window and candles stuttering about the place. Yet look at those china plates, shining away on the tall dresser. Pockled from a trading ship, of course. Best-quality Scotch whisky too. And Joan and me, our hands rough and raw; our eyes alight with the thrill of a mysterious stranger in the house. Oh, Spencer took it all in, and I was not surprised that his eyes lingered longer on Joan than they did on me, for she’s a bonny thing and she knows it.

‘I can look after stuff, for a price,’ said Da. ‘But nothing stolen nor counterfeit.’

Spencer laughed as though Da had told a great joke, then once he had gained his composure again, he looked at us girls and winked.

‘Well, if it’s neither stolen nor counterfeit, what would anyone want it looked after for?’ He spoke with a voice that had a burr, if that is the right word, of softness to it. He was not from around here. At a guess, I would have said he was from well over the English border. Gosh, didn’t his eyes twinkle. And he was not afraid of Da, was he? Not intimidated at all. I admired that about him too.

Da took a dislike to him at that, for he did not pour another dram, as he usually would for visitors. Instead he let Spencer’s cup run dry as he took the parcel and his payment and put it away in his hidey hole. The parcel was nothing to look at, merely a small box wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, although I couldn’t help but guess what might be inside it.

‘I’ll be few weeks or so,’ Spencer said, toying with his tobacco pipe. ‘Got a bit of other business to attend to, then I’ll be back for it. If anyone comes asking, you don’t know anything about it and you’ve never met me, understand?’

He glanced then at me and Joan and the mischievous look was gone.

‘The girls understand,’ Da replied.