He sounded hurt and for a moment she wavered. Was she reading more into this, into his behaviour as a whole, than was there? He was Davey’s best friend, after all. Not only that but he was young and handsome and could have any lass he wanted. But then she remembered the remark about the doll’s hair; it could be nothing, of course it could, but there was always something like that with Nat. Some seemingly casual comment or a look that made her feel uncomfortable. Her mind made up and her voice unusually firm, she said, ‘I’m very grateful but I can’t accept it, Nat. You must see how it would look to other people.’

‘I couldn’t give a monkey’s cuss about other people.’

She looked at him, prepared to argue her case, but under his fixed stare her heart started to pound against her ribs.

‘I bought it for you and it’s yours. Burn it, put it in a drawer and forget about it, it’s up to you – but it’s yours.’

His voice was flat and steady and his face revealed nothing but Rose knew he was angry. Not a sad angry which might have caused her to attempt to make amends and appease him, but rather an incensed fury that caused her to shrink back in her chair.

Almost immediately his whole persona changed yet again, his expression one of pain. ‘Remember I loved him too, lass, all right? I know what you’re going through, and you’ve the bairn to tend to an’ all. I just want to help if I can, what else are friends for? I understand you’re not thinking straight at the moment so we’ll leave it at that. My mam sends her regards by the way and says if there’s anything she can do you’ve only got to ask. You’re not alone although it might feel like it.’

He’d made her feel ungrateful and confused. She didn’t know how to answer and so she said nothing, and after a moment or two Nathaniel began to talk about inconsequential things – the church service he and his family had attended that morning; his mother preparing the food for all his brothers and sisters and their families who were coming for Christmas dinner and the bedlam that would ensue, and so on. She listened quietly, speaking mostly in monosyllables when she had to and wishing he would go.

He didn’t take his leave until after Betsy had awoken and she had fetched the baby downstairs, and even then it was reluctantly. She stood straight and stiff as he said goodbye, holding Betsy tightly to her, and when he reached out and took the baby’s hand in his, jogging it up and down, she had to summon all her willpower to remain still.