As far as I could see, I had three options. The first was to go home. I could not afford to continue the lease on our cottage for too long, so that meant I’d have to go back to Ma and Da. Or rent something cheaper, like a bed in a shared room, perhaps with another family or with a married couple, like many folk did. I could work until the babe was born, then try to get some more work afterwards. But I couldn’t bear the thought of going home. It felt like being dragged back by a current. I did not want the pity of the fishwives, making sympathetic noises when they saw my growing belly and asking if I had heard anything from Spencer yet. I did not want everyone to see me as a failure. The lass who tried to make a better life for herself, but failed.

The second option was to come clean and throw myself at the mercy of the Baxters. But the thought of that was just as bad. Mrs Baxter would put me out on my arse or, worse, the parish officers would hear of it and I would be sent to the House of Correction. I’d told Mrs Baxter I was unmarried! I couldn’t tell her I had lied. She would not even believe me. And I would be confined with nursing. I would be no use to her, and an embarrassment. She would send me back to Fisherrow for my honest, hard-working kin to look after me.

That left me with only one real option. Carry on as I had been.

I could travel to London before the baby was born and find lodgings and settle in. I was counting my wages every week. I simply did not have enough money now, but if I saved for a couple more months or so, I could do it. But I needed to make my journey before everyone guessed, or risk my decisions being made for me. If I played it right, I would arrive in London in good time, with the story that I was a recent widow. I could find a woman to help me with the birth, and from then I would work from home, as the fishwives did, taking in whatever work I could get. Sewing, fishing lines – it did not matter. Mrs Baxter’s eagerness at hiring me had made me see myself in a new light. I would not struggle.

Oh, but the shock of it. I had never wanted a baby. Had not factored it into any of my plans. I was not maternal. Mibbie one day. Not yet.