Rose sat staring out of the window of the train, Betsy fast asleep on her lap. She wasn’t seeing the countryside though, her thoughts blinding her to the view as the train puffed along. She’d done it. She sat as stiff as a board, the anxiety that had gripped her from the moment she awoke making her ramrod straight. Right until the train had left the station in billows of smoke she’d expected Nathaniel to materialize and attempt to haul her back to the house. But everything had gone like clockwork.

She took a deep breath, consciously relaxing her rigid shoulders. Mr Todd had arrived promptly at eight o’clock and they had agreed a price for the remaining contents of the house, along with Betsy’s pram. She’d agonized over that. Betsy would have been able to sleep and play in it, and it would also have served to carry their bags, but with the snow so deep in parts and the manoeuvring it would take on the train she’d reluctantly decided to leave it behind. Instead she had fashioned a kind of carrying pouch for her daughter out of a blanket which tied round her own shoulders and waist and left her hands free for their bags. She had included Nathaniel’s presents in the items she was selling; just looking at the doll and scarf made her flesh creep and the doll wasn’t suitable for a baby anyway. She would buy Betsy another one when she was older.

Mr Todd had baulked at having the responsibility of leaving the key with Mrs McKenzie, but as he had cleared the house quickly and efficiently it hadn’t delayed her much. Once she had been ready to leave, she had popped the key, along with Nathaniel’s box of chocolates, round to her neighbour. She had kept her explanation brief, merely saying she had to go away for a while and she didn’t think she would be returning to Sunderland, and when Mrs McKenzie had asked a few questions she had parried them and left as quickly as she could.

‘. . . isn’t she.’

Rose suddenly realized the plump, middle-aged woman sitting opposite her on the train had spoken and she hadn’t heard a word. Flushing, she said, ‘I’m sorry?’

‘The bairn. Bonny little thing, isn’t she.’

‘Aye, yes, she is.’

‘Your first?’

‘Yes.’

‘Meself I had ten but when the last one was stillborn I told my Ken enough was enough. Your hubby not travelling with you then?’

The woman’s brown eyes were bright with interest and Rose saw her glance take in the two cloth bags at her feet. She had already decided what to say if anyone asked and the lie came easily. ‘No, he needs to work but I’m visiting relatives in Gateshead to show them the baby.’

The woman nodded. ‘By, they’ll love her, lass.’