‘I’ve no complaints.’ David grinned at his best friend, pulling the thick woollen scarf that Rose had knitted him tighter round his neck against the bitterly cold wind coming off the sea. The Sunderland shipyard where they worked as welders – Bartram’s – was the most exposed yard in the town being right on the seafront, unlike the other nine yards dotted along the banks of the Wear. When the men at Bartram’s did a night shift in the winter months it wasn’t unusual for them to wear two coats over a couple of jumpers, along with a balaclava and scarf, but David wouldn’t have dreamed of working anywhere else. Bartram’s was a real family yard. Everyone knew everyone else and the feeling of camaraderie was strong. It was safer than some of the others like Doxford’s or J. L. Thompson’s too; they were known as the ‘blood yards’. Accidents still happened at Bartram’s, of course – all the shipyards were dangerous places where conditions were dire and safety precautions non-existent – and since he’d been taken on as an apprentice at the age of thirteen he’d seen some things that had kept him awake at night, but you just had to get on with life, didn’t you, he thought to himself.

Nathaniel Alridge shook his head, punching David lightly on the arm. ‘Aye, well, I still think you should be sowing a few wild oats at your age and breaking hearts along the way. You’re only young once.’

David smiled wryly. ‘To my mind you sow enough oats for the pair of us and then some. Gladys Shaw’s mam was telling Rose that Gladys has been crying into her pillow every night for the past weeks over you.’

Nathaniel shrugged. ‘I never made any promises. You know me.’

‘Aye, I do.’ Nathaniel had a well-deserved reputation as a ladies’ man. Even when the two of them had been knee high to a grasshopper playing in the back lanes and alleyways, the lassies had made a beeline for him. They found his thick crop of dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and wide smile irresistible.