Not wanting to get caught up in Joe’s family troubles, Bridget gazed down at her daughter. ‘You’re right, Joe,’ she said. ‘Ruth is a pretty thing, and she has a lovely temperament to go with it.’

Putting his own troubles aside for the moment, Joe came to stand beside her. ‘With her dark blue eyes and mass of brown hair, she’ll set some lad’s heart atrembling one o’ these days,’ he said. ‘I admire you, though. It can’t be easy fetching up a bairn all on your own.’

‘When you’ve got no choice, you just get on with it. But, like you said, she deserves a father and that’s the one thing I can’t give her.’

‘Away with you, lass! There’ll be a time when you find the right man to be a daddy to the young’un. I know it’s difficult, what with Tom and everything, but it’s been, what, three years now. You have to remember, it’s not only the bairn that needs to be taken care of, it’s you an’ all.’

Bridget shook her head. ‘I’ll never remarry,’ she said decisively.

‘You can’t be sure of that.’

‘Oh, but I can.’

‘You’re a woman in a man’s world. It won’t be easy for either of you.’

‘As long as I’ve got two strong arms, me and Ruth will be all right.’

‘What about that nice young man who walks you home now and then?’

‘Bob Morris, you mean?’

‘Aye, that’s the one. Buys the milk from the farmers and touts it round the streets.’

‘He’s a friend, that’s all.’

‘I see.’

Bridget smiled at him. ‘No. He really is just a friend.’

‘Ah, but does he know that?’

‘What do you mean, Joe?’

‘I mean he has a certain twinkle in his eye whenever he catches sight of you. I reckon if you were to give him a chance, that fine young man would take on you and Ruth without a moment’s hesitation.’

Bridget was quiet for a moment, her gaze going to Ruth; when she looked at her daughter, she saw Harry, the same wild brown hair. But sometimes the child bore an uncanny resemblance to Tom.

Yet, Ruth was Harry’s, there was no doubt of that. She had Harry’s nature, sometimes shy and quiet, sometimes painfully outspoken. There was nothing of Tom’s complex nature about her. Bridget had mixed feelings about that. ‘I do miss him.’ She seemed to be speaking to herself, but Joe heard and was understanding.

‘I expect you do, lass,’ he said. ‘It’s only natural.’

‘Tom would have made such a wonderful father.’ If only he had allowed himself to love that innocent child, she thought bitterly.

‘It were a tragedy. You’ve borne it well, lass.’

He would never know how hard it had been. ‘Like I said, Joe. When you have no choice you get on and do the best you can.’

‘Listen to me, Bridget. You’re a very pretty young woman. God willing, you’ve a long life ahead of you, both you and the bairn. Don’t turn your back on Bob Morris. He seems a fine young man. Take your time. See him with the child. See how she takes to him. Then, if you both feel right with him, happen you an’ he could make a go of it, eh?’