Shocked, for she had never in her life seen Fanny cry, Bridget looked from her to Billy. ‘Who’s upset your mam, Billy?’ she asked softly.

The boy hung his head. ‘Me mam’s had a fight.’ His voice shook. ‘It were awful.’

At that moment, Ruthie appeared. Billy’s eyes were drawn to her straightaway. For a moment they looked at each other, not certain what to say.

‘Here’s a sixpence, Ruthie,’ said Bridget briskly. ‘We need a loaf of bread.’ She smiled at the boy. ‘Happen Billy will walk with you to the shop.’

Quick-minded, Ruthie understood the situation. ‘We don’t need to hurry back, do we, Mam?’

‘Not if you’ve a mind to stroll.’

Sliding her hand into Billy’s, Ruthie asked, ‘Have you made any more of those tiny wooden trains, Billy?’

His face lit up. ‘Oh, yes! Me mam took me to the railway bridge last week and I drew all the trains that went past. I’ve made one from the drawing, but it was hard, all those funnels and things.’ Pride shone in his face. ‘It’s in the wagon. Do you want to see?’

Ruthie looked at her mam, and when Bridget nodded, she grabbed up the sixpence and the two of them scuttled away.

With the children out of the way, Bridget turned her attention to Fanny. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked. ‘I’ve never seen you like this before.’

Fanny managed a shaky grin. ‘Go on, gal, make us a brew. Getting meself in a state like that, me throat’s parched as a bloody pea.’

‘You gave me a turn, I can tell you.’ Bridget carried on talking as she went to the kitchen. ‘Who’s upset you? What did Billy mean? You haven’t really had a fight, have you?’

By the time she’d finished asking questions and getting no answers, she had brewed the tea, poured it out, and was on her way back with it. ‘I hope you didn’t mean it when you said you were leaving.’

‘Billy was right,’ Fanny said. ‘I did have a fight.’ And to prove it, she rolled up her sleeve to display a large, purple-coloured bruise.

‘Oh, Fan!’ Bridget knew her friend had a wicked temper, but she had never known her to resort to fisticuffs. ‘Why?’

‘Because it needed to be done,’ came the answer. ‘It were the ol’ battleaxe. She came round last night, high and bloody mighty, threatening me with all and sundry if I ever claimed that Billy belonged to her husband. She found out he were paying me a few shilling towards the lad’s keep, and it made her furious. I told her straight, the lad were Bill’s and there was nothing she could do about it. I said as how I meant to tell the lad when he were old enough, and like it or not her precious husband would have to face up to his responsibility.’

‘My God! What a bitch to come round and threaten you like that. What about Billy? Did he hear all this?’