‘All I can say, Fan, is follow your instinct. Billy adores you, anyone can see that. I’m sure the love between you and your son can stand up to the truth.’

Slapping her knee with delight, Fanny cried, ‘Yer right, gal.’

‘So you’ll tell him?’

‘Aye, I will. When the time’s right, I’ll tell him the truth.’

From inside the wagon came the sound of young voices singing.

‘Listen to them little buggers,’ Fanny exclaimed. ‘They ain’t got a worry in the world.’

‘Let’s hope it stays that way.’

As they turned into King Street, there, eager and moon-eyed, was Bob, waving at Bridget from the front door of her house.

‘Will yer look at that,’ Fanny laughed. ‘There’s yer very man, waiting for yer to come home. Think yerself lucky, my gal,’ she sighed. ‘I ain’t got no man waiting for me, and not likely to have neither.’

Bridget returned Bob’s eager wave. Yes, she was lucky, she thought. But as she got down from the wagon and he came running towards them, she couldn’t help but feel that he was too good to be true.

Chapter Nine

In October of the following year, things came to a head.

It was eight o’clock on a Saturday morning when a knock came on Bridget’s door. ‘God love us! Whoever’s that at this time of a morning?’ The memory rushed into her mind of the day Tom had killed himself and someone had knocked on her door just like that. She hardly dared get out of her bed.

From the next room, Ruthie called, ‘Mam! There’s somebody at the door!’

Taking a deep breath, Bridget clambered out of bed and hurried across the room. The knocking continued, and Ruthie’s voice grew anxious. ‘Mam! Who is it?’

‘It’s all right, sweetheart, I’m on my way.’ She looked out of the window, straight into Fanny’s upturned face.

‘Come on, gal!’ Fanny cried. ‘I’ve been here ten minutes. Cor! It’s like trying to wake the bleedin’ dead.’

Throwing on her clothes, Bridget ran down the stairs and along the passageway. ‘You’ll have the street out with your clamour,’ she teased Fanny.

With her son in tow, Fanny marched into the parlour. ‘Me mind’s made up,’ she said. ‘I’m off. I’m getting out of here, and it’ll be a bloody long time afore I come back.’

Bridget couldn’t believe her ears. ‘What do you mean, you’re off?’

‘Just what I said. I’m going. Leaving. Buggering off from these parts once and for all.’

‘Who’s upset you now? Is it that woman from the corner shop? I said she’d cause trouble if you kept parking the wagon right in front of her window.’

‘No, it ain’t the woman from the corner shop, and she’s not likely to cause trouble, not when we’ve come to an arrangement where our Billy delivers her stale old muffins to all and sundry without a penny for his trouble.’ Suddenly she put her hand over her face as if she was quietly crying. ‘I knew all along it would come to this, gal.’