Giggling like a schoolboy, he spread her legs. ‘Only a minute,’ he murmured, his face close to hers and the palm of his hand pressing her head against the wall. ‘There’s a good girl.’

In a surge of desperation, she opened her mouth far enough to bite his hand. With all the force she could summon up she sank her teeth deep into his flesh. With a yell he reeled away. ‘You bloody bitch!’

When she broke away, he lunged at her, but she was too quick for him and in a moment he was alone in the alley, his trousers round his ankles and his naked member – a pitiful thing now – hanging limp and wrinkled between his legs.

‘Oh my Gawd, what we got ’ere then, eh?’ Two street women were out early looking for a likely treat, and here, right before their eyes, was one for the taking. ‘Bugger me if he ain’t that eager he’s got his trousers down all ready to be at it!’ laughed the red-headed one.

Her friend regarded him with avaricious eyes. ‘I don’t think he’ll do much damage with a shrunk-up tool like that,’ she sniggered. ‘But from the cut o’ that jacket ’e looks like he’s worth a bob or two.’ Moving towards him, she cried excitedly, ‘Let me ’ave first go.’

‘No! I saw him first!’

‘Fair dos, gal. I know how energetic you are an’ I don’t want him worn out afore I even get a look in.’

The sight of these two painted slags coming for him struck terror in Mr Noosan. ‘Help!’ he shouted. ‘Help!’ and was off up the alley with the pair in hot pursuit. Desperately trying to pull up his trousers he fell to the cobbles twice, but such was his terror that he managed to reach his carriage unmolested.

From his lofty seat the driver couldn’t believe his eyes. ‘Cor, luv us!’ he exclaimed. ‘What’s all this then?’

Holding up his trousers with one hand, Mr Noosan leaped into the carriage like a man possessed. ‘Away with you, man!’ he yelled. ‘And don’t stop till you get to the orphanage!’

Will you watch the stall for half an hour, sweetheart?’ Bridget asked Ruthie. ‘I have to see the manager of the market before he takes his leave.’

Ruthie was delighted. ‘I’m a big girl now, aren’t I, Mammy?’

Bridget couldn’t argue with that. After all, Ruthie was eight this year and she knew the trade almost as well as she herself did. ‘Oh, look at your snotty nose, child!’ she tutted. Taking a handkerchief out of her pinny pocket, she wiped her nose and then tucked the hankie in Ruthie’s pocket. ‘Don’t let the customers see you with a runny nose,’ she warned, ‘or you’ll put them off.’

Before she went, Bridget made doubly sure Ruthie would be all right by discreetly asking Aggie, the woman on the next stall, to keep an eye on her.

Going at a fast pace, Bridget hurried along the stalls and down towards the quieter part of the market, on the alley side. ‘Got to be quick,’ she muttered. ‘Don’t want to leave Ruthie on her own for too long.’ There were some shady characters strolling these areas and a mother couldn’t be too careful.