She intended to move to the house tomorrow; she and Betsy could go shopping for supplies together and she had already asked the coal merchant to deliver enough coal to fill the bunker in the yard tomorrow morning. Everything was set. She had stopped at the market a few days ago and spoken to one of the stallholders who had directed her to the market overseer. He would arrange her pitch and she had already paid the nominal fee he required for the council and for the stall itself. He’d been a nice tubby little man with a bushy grey beard, who had informed her that while most of the stallholders paid for six- or twelve-monthly rights to secure their stall, she might like to start off paying monthly ‘to see if it suits’. She knew what that meant. It was a kind way of saying he wasn’t sure if she would make a go of it.

As she reached the inn with the flowers and chocolates, she stood for a moment in the courtyard before entering. Tomorrow would see the start of her new life and already she had a good friend in Amy. She had to put the past behind her and concentrate on the future, it was the only way to live. She could see herself settling in this steel town with its red dust and warm community. The other day she had been passing the forge, with its slate roof held together with sheep bones, and the blacksmith had stopped shoeing a horse for a few moments to talk to her, saying he’d seen her coming back and forth for a few days. She had told him she was going to have a stall on the market selling cooked food and he had promised he would come and sample some and tell his customers about her too. Whether he would or not she didn’t know, but it had been nice of him to say so, all the same.

When she entered the inn Wilbur directed her through to the family’s private quarters off the kitchen, and there she found Betsy playing with the toys that Tessa kept for Daisy’s children when they called round. At the sight of her mother Betsy left the tower of wooden bricks she and Amy had been building and rushed to her, and after Rose had given Amy the flowers and chocolates she lifted the child into her arms, holding her close for a moment.

She was lucky, she was so, so lucky to have this precious, beautiful bairn. Betsy was all she would ever want in life. She would ask God for nothing more.

Chapter Fifteen