Within a few weeks the deal was done. Rose bought the bakery for one hundred and thirty-five pounds. It meant she had to take out a loan of thirty pounds, but considering that she now owned her business and the little flat upstairs she was happy. She resolved to save every penny she could in the coming months. She would make it a priority to pay off the loan as soon as she could.

She would do it, she told herself on the evening the property became hers. And once the loan was paid off she would begin to save for the alterations she had in mind for the downstairs of the property. At the moment all the water for the bakery and the flat came from a tap in the back yard, but she intended to change that. And she wanted to build an extension too which would house an indoor bathroom and privy. Every improvement she made would benefit her and Betsy now and in the future. The present privy and the brick wash house which took up most of the yard could be knocked down and the whole of the area used for the extension. It was a shame there was no room in the flat for a bathroom, but it was what it was. And it was home, their home where they were happy together.

She had told Alexander what she intended to do on his last leave shortly before she had approached Albert Preston, and he had applauded her, saying she would never regret investing in bricks and mortar. As was the case in Consett, like every other town, she supposed, news about her buying the property off Albert had spread like wildfire, although he maintained he had kept it to himself. Certainly she had more than one person congratulate her about her acquisition of the bakery in the days that followed, but in her naivety she didn’t think anything of it except that folk could be nice when they wanted to be. It wasn’t until just before Betsy left off school for the Christmas holidays that she revised that opinion.

Betsy had been unusually subdued for a day or two but had insisted nothing was wrong when Rose had tried to question her. On this particular evening though, when she walked out of school surrounded by Daisy’s girls, almost in the form of a barrier against the other bairns, Rose could see she had been crying. As they began to walk home in a little group, Rose took Betsy’s hand. ‘What’s wrong, hinny? And don’t say nothing. I know something’s upsetting you. Tell me.’