The smile slid from her mouth. She was tied when he was alive. And, one way or another, she was still tied.

Christmas Day was wonderful.

Fanny turned up, large and colourful, wearing a flowing skirt and carrying two presents, one for Bridget and one for Ruth. ‘Open them now,’ she ordered, looking on proudly while they tore away the wrapping.

‘Oh, Fanny, I love it!’ Bridget’s present was a vase which Fanny had painted herself. The base had a halo of daisies, and the neck a ring of bluebells.

‘Took me a whole week, that bugger did!’ Fanny told her, and Bridget was pleased as could be.

To Ruth Fanny gave a small rocking horse. ‘I got it for a tanner off a rag-and-bone man,’ she confessed. ‘Then I rubbed it down and varnished it all over.’

Ruth was mesmerised by its hairy tail.

‘That there’s a real tail,’ Fanny informed her proudly. ‘My old horse had such a mass of hair I stripped a bit away, and he didn’t even miss it.’ Giggling, she added, ‘Mind you, he squealed a bit when I accidentally stuck the scissors in his bare arse.’

At this, Nelly fell about laughing. Bridget, though, thought it was wicked and said so.

Bridget had found time to knit a beautiful blue shawl for Nelly, and for Fanny she’d found the prettiest hat, large enough to keep the sun off in summer, and small enough to be cosy in winter. Both Fanny and Nelly were thrilled to bits.

Nelly had brought pots of her own homemade jam from last summer for both Fanny and Bridget. ‘There’s nowt wrong with it,’ she declared. ‘My jam keeps longer than most.’ She gave the children each a pair of mittens that she had crocheted herself.

Having colluded with the old woman, Bridget was able to give them each a scarf to match the mittens.

Bridget’s main present to her daughter was a doll she had bought on weekly instalments since early August; and when Ruth cried out with delight, hugging the toy to her breast, she knew the scrimping and scraping had been well worth it.

They had a meal of turkey, with potatoes and cabbage, and afterwards an apple pie with thick, sugary custard.

‘By! That were grand!’ Nelly said, patting her belly.

Later, she snored contentedly by the fireside. The children played at her feet, and Fanny helped Bridget with the washing up.

‘Right, gal,’ Fanny said. ‘Tell me all your news.’

When Bridget told her that Bob had asked her out, Fanny winked naughtily. ‘I knew it!’ she cried. ‘He fancies yer rotten, gal. Afore you know it, he’ll have yer walking down the aisle, I’m buggered if he won’t.’

Thinking about it afterwards, Bridget hoped she hadn’t got herself into something she would live to regret.

Christmas Day was no different for Harry than any other day.

Seated at his workbench, he sewed and measured, just as his father had done before him.

The customer watched admiringly. ‘You’re as good a tailor as your father ever was,’ he said, ‘and you’ll never know how grateful I am that you gave up your Christmas to help me out.’