Looking down on the mound of earth that covered her ma, Betsy let a tear spill over and run down her cheek.

‘She’s at rest now, love. And not in a pauper’s grave, neither. With what you were able to promise from your compensation and what Ma had in her pot, we managed to get her a decent resting place, didn’t we?’

‘We did, Ciss.’

Stopping the funeral from going ahead when it was scheduled to had been arranged by Betsy’s solicitor, after the hope that was given to her on that first day of the trial. He’d been so confident that Betsy would win, and be awarded compensation, that he’d even paid the mortuary fees. As a result, Ma was now lying in a proper grave after a lovely service had been held.

‘Aye, and we can pay the surgeon with the rest. But where we’re going to live is another matter, ain’t it, Betsy?’

‘Aye, Bill. We’ve to sort that problem out, and even though I’ve enough to pay a couple of weeks’ rent, which might secure us a place, how are we going to pay after that?’

‘Look, why don’t you move into Ma’s house with me, eh?’ Ciss suggested. ‘I’ve had a word with the landlord and he said that as long as I keep up the rent, I can have it. I were thinking of taking up Patrick Finnigan’s offer of marriage as I told you of, and of us moving into it. But if I do marry him, he tells me that he can get a farm cottage, and then you can have Ma’s to yourselves. But you’ve to sort jobs first, and I can stay and pay the rent till then.’

‘Oh, our Ciss, ta, lass. Eeh, you’ve saved me bacon.’

‘Don’t cry, our Betsy lass, don’t . . .’

But it was too late, for the floodgates had opened, and the sisters collapsed into each other’s arms. Bill held the sobbing girls as best he could, but his own tears wet his face as he did so.

Betsy recovered first. ‘Eeh, look at us. I ain’t cried proper since Ma left, but I feel better for it. Come on, let’s walk to the corner cafe and treat ourselves to a bun. We deserve a little bit of sommat nice out of that swine’s money.’

Once seated in the cafe, Betsy followed up on what Ciss had said. ‘So you’ve a fancy for Pat then, I take it?’

‘Aye, I have, but I haven’t shown him that yet. I’ve been biding me time. He likes the drink a bit too much for me liking, and I’ve given him an ultimatum: he modifies his ale-swilling or I look for someone else. So far he’s conformed, but I wanted to leave it a while, to make sure he keeps to it.’

‘By, you’re asking a lot of him; like you say, he’s partial to his ale, that one.’

‘Well, if he thinks I’m worth it, he’ll do it. It’s up to him.’