Bridget paused in pulling on her stockings. ‘Why do you say that?’

Bold as brass and too thick-skinned for her own good, Nelly explained, ‘If yer don’t mind an old lady saying—’ she could always fall back on her age when it suited her – ‘yer old man might be big and strong, but in my experience it’s the skinny ones who reach the spot – if yer know what I mean. Anyway, you’ve been wed long enough to be made with child afore now, don’t yer think?’

Bridget was deeply shocked. ‘What I think is, it might be better if you didn’t say any more.’

‘Oh? A sensitive issue, is it? Mind you, I’m not surprised.’

‘Nelly!’

‘His brother were the same, as I recall. Wed eight years and never managed to fill her belly, not once! In the end she buggered off with some man who gave her eight brats one after the other.’ Tutting with disgust, Nelly muttered, ‘All I can say is, she must have been wrong in the bloody ’ead.’

‘Goodnight, Nelly.’ Disturbed by Nelly’s words, Bridget escorted her down the stairs. ‘Thanks for your help.’

A cunning old bird, Nelly had other ideas. ‘Why don’t I hang on here till yer come back?’ she offered slyly. ‘I can maybe do a bit o’ cleaning or summat. There’s nobody waiting for me at home, worse luck. And besides, happen you’ll want somebody to confide in when yer get back, eh?’ Her meaning was all too clear, and Bridget couldn’t help but smile at her nerve. She knew the old dear meant no harm. All the same, there was no time to waste. If Tom returned before she did, there’d be hell to pay.

‘Thanks all the same, Nelly, but no.’ There was one other thing. ‘I would appreciate it if yer didn’t mention any of this to Tom, knowing how he feels about me being friendly with Fanny.’

Bending forward intimately, Nelly replied in a whisper, ‘My lips are sealed, you can depend on it. I mind me own business, and I ask others to do the same.’ There was nothing Nelly enjoyed more than a good gossip, Bridget knew. ‘O’course,’ Nelly added, ‘I was hoping to earn a few bob doing you a favour or two. Cleaning and scrubbing, like, yer know what I mean?’

Bridget searched out two silver coins from her purse and dropped them gently into the old woman’s gnarled hand. ‘Not a word, Nelly. Or I might be tempted to tell Tom what you said – about him not “reaching the spot”, if you know what I mean?’ A little smile lifted the comers of her mouth. ‘If I was to let on what you’ve been saying about him, I reckon he might just string you up from the nearest lamppost.’ He might, too, thought Bridget. Not having made a child with her was one of Tom’s deepest regrets, and one that had been the source of much anguish to them both.