Georgie opened the box and squealed with delight as she clocked the ring. It was a round gold band with what looked like diamonds in the centre of it. ‘Give us it ’ere. I wanna put it on for ya,’ Ryan said, placing it on her wedding finger. ‘You know what this ring means, don’t you, Georgie?’

‘No.’

‘It’s an eternity ring,’ Ryan told her.

‘What’s that mean, then?’ Georgie asked, showing her young innocence for once.

Ryan lifted up her left hand and gently kissed the ring. ‘Eternity means that me and you are gonna be together for ever.’

Georgie grinned. She’d captured her man, got a ring to prove it, and couldn’t wait to tell all the other girls on the site. They would be so bloody jealous.

Alice O’Hara was just dishing up her homemade shepherd’s pie when Jimmy walked through the door, looking slightly worse for wear.

‘You must smell me dishing up, Jimmy O’Hara. Nose like an elephant’s trunk you’ve got. Where ya been? I’ve been trying to ring ya all day.’

‘Pub,’ Jimmy replied curtly, as he drunkenly sparred up to Harry.

‘What pub? You ain’t been to that one with the funny name that’s miles away again, have ya? I wish you wouldn’t drink and drive like that. Say the gavvers catch ya? Can’t you drink somewhere nearer home?’

‘I like the Babbity Bowster and I’m fine driving back from there. Anyway, even if the gavvers do catch me, I’ve got me licence in the name of Jones, ain’t I? You worry too much, woman.’

Alice sighed. Apart from their old friends and fellow travellers, who knew who they were, they introduced themselves by the surname of Jones to anybody else they came into contact with now. You could never be too careful, especially when you were on the bloody run.

‘Gotcha, Grandad,’ Harry yelled, as he landed a right hook on Jimmy’s chin.

‘That hurt, you little fucker,’ Jimmy chuckled, as he wrestled his grandson to the floor.

‘He is a little fucker an’ all. Bought home another dead chicken that he’d nicked off the farmers again today. I wish you’d have a man-to-man chat with him, Jimmy. If he gets caught and the gavvers nick him, it might blow our cover.’

‘Of course it won’t. I’ve told you a thousand times, woman, all our documents are cushti and they’re all in our new name. We ain’t Alice and Jimmy O’Hara no more, we are Alice and Jimmy Jones, so for fuck’s sake stop worrying about it.’

‘Your dinner’s getting cold. You gonna stop arsing about and eat it? I don’t slave over a hot stove all day for the fun of it, you know.’