She stared at him for a moment. She wanted to tell him to go and not to come back but he was Davey’s friend and he’d been good to her over the last week, visiting Davey’s parents and helping her arrange the funeral. She hadn’t asked for his assistance with the latter but somehow it had just happened, along with him walking to and from the church with her and sitting beside her during the service. The funeral had taken the little nest egg she and Davey had tried to put by for a rainy day even though it had been the cheapest coffin the undertakers had had, with one horse and an open cart delivering it to the churchyard.

Ignoring the fact that he clearly wasn’t welcome, Nathaniel began to unwrap the packages he had brought, his voice matter-of-fact. ‘I thought you could use a few groceries over Christmas, lass. I dare say you haven’t been shopping what with the funeral an’ all. There’s half a ham here and some vegetables and I picked up a chicken for tomorrow, it being Christmas Day. There’s milk and a quarter of tea and—’

‘You shouldn’t do this.’ It had come out sharper than she had intended. Moderating her tone, she added, ‘It’s very kind of you but there’s no need really. I can manage.’

‘Davey would have expected me to look after you and the bairn.’

Nathaniel had said the same thing several times over the last week and she hadn’t argued, but this time she shook her head. ‘You’ve done enough already. I’m very grateful but I don’t want you spending your money on us.’

He shrugged. ‘I’ve no one else to spend it on and that’ – he pointed to the envelope on the table – ‘won’t go far. Ferry said they’ve paid the same as the last four weeks but it won’t last long, you know that.’

‘It’s fine really. It will tide us over the next week or so while I think what to do.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

She couldn’t discuss this right now, not on top of the funeral today. ‘Nat, I’m really tired. Thank you for your support and everything you’ve done but I just want some time by myself tonight. I – I hope you understand.’

His face had stiffened and it was clearly with some effort that he said, ‘Of course, you must be exhausted, but you shouldn’t spend Christmas alone. I’ll come by tomorrow and—’

‘I won’t be alone. I have Betsy.’

‘She’s a baby, Rose. You need people to talk to, company.’

‘Betsy is all I need.’ Her voice was quiet but carried an unmistakable message.