Fanny said nothing but secretly she hoped that when they were grown up they might be more than that.

While the children looked on with big, excited eyes, Bridget went back inside the wagon and reappeared with a magnificent birthday cake, complete with twelve candles, a circle of six blue ones, and another circle of six pink. ‘We’ll light one set at a time, like always,’ she said as she came down the steps. ‘Last year Ruthie got to blow hers out first. This time it’s Billy’s turn.’ She almost tripped on the steps.

‘Watch what yer doing, lass!’ Fanny cried. ‘We don’t want the cake splattered all over the place.’

‘Oh, I see,’ said Bridget. ‘So it doesn’t matter if I’m splattered all over the place.’

‘We’d ’ave scraped yer up,’ Fanny grinned. ‘Wouldn’t we, eh?’

‘I don’t want Mammy splattered all over,’ protested Ruthie.

Billy laughed. ‘It were only a joke.’

‘No touching until we say so.’ Setting the cake down on the tablecloth, Bridget returned to the wagon for the jellies.

‘We’ve got four jellies,’ Fanny said, sitting cross-legged on the tablecloth. ‘Red, green, orange and pink.’ Billy opted for the red one and Ruthie for the orange. ‘Oh, look! They’re not set proper,’ Fanny groaned when the jellies dripped off the spoons. But it didn’t matter to the children.

First Billy’s candles were lit, and he blew them all out with one great breath. Ruthie then blew hers out, but missed one and had to do it again.

They ate almost everything, and even the horse had a slice of birthday cake, but there were enough crumbs left over for the ducks.

When the children were so full they could hardly move, Bridget and Fanny cleared away and a short time later, they were all aboard the wagon and heading for King Street. The children were inside, telling each other stories, and Fanny and Bridget were side by side on the driving seat.

‘Has Bill ever seen his son?’ Bridget wanted to know.

‘No, he ain’t,’ came the curt answer. ‘Billy’s better off without him. We both are.’

Bridget felt sad about that. ‘Do you really mean it? If he came to you on bended knees, would you find it in your heart to turn him away?’

Fanny gave her a sideways grin. ‘Depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On how much I’m worth.’

‘You’re a wicked devil,’ Bridget laughed. ‘I don’t know who’s worse, you or him.’

‘You needn’t worry,’ Fanny told her, ‘he’s too much of a coward ever to leave the old battleaxe.’

‘If you did get back together, what would happen about the money she gave you? She’d want it back, wouldn’t she?’

‘Well, she wouldn’t get a penny. It’s out of her reach now. I’ve paid for the house and bought meself this wagon. The rest I’ve put aside to draw on. And Bill does still send me a few shilling regular like. I’m not too proud to take them neither! When all’s said and done, me and the lad need food and clothing, don’t we?’