Twice Bridget knocked, and twice she thought she heard sounds from inside. Encouraged, she clenched her fist and banged on the door, louder this time. ‘Fanny, it’s Bridget!’

The scuffling seemed to go on for an age before the door edged open and Fanny’s narrow face peeped out. ‘What the devil are you doing here at this time of a Saturday?’ She looked up and down the street. ‘Does Tom know you’re here?’

Bridget shook her head. ‘I need to talk,’ she said softly. ‘I’m worried sick.’

The door opened wide enough to admit her. ‘You’d best come in then.’

In the hallway a stout, red-faced man was hurriedly pulling on his coat. ‘Come on, shift yer bleedin’ arse,’ Fanny cried, giving him a hefty shove. ‘I told yer never to show yer face again, and here yer are, same old trouble.’

‘I want you to marry me,’ the man wailed, paying no attention to Bridget. ‘I’ve told you time and again, and still you give me no answer.’

‘That’s because yer still wed to her, yer useless article!’

‘I’ll get rid of her, I’ve told you!’

‘She’ll not be got rid of, and well you know it, Bill Norman! She’s got a comfortable home and money enough to buy what she wants. Why the hell should she give it up so I can have it, eh? Tell me that, yer silly old sod!’

‘I’ll tell her, once and for all. I’m not frightened.’ Though he appeared to be quaking at the very thought of her.

‘Don’t talk bloody daft! If she were to come through that door now, you’d mess yer bleedin’ self!’

‘If I do get rid of her, will you wed me, Fanny? Will you say yes?’

‘I’m still not decided.’

‘How can you not be decided? You’ve had two years to make up your mind, and still you keep me hanging on. We’re none of us getting any younger, Fanny. I’m warning you, I’ll not wait for ever.’

‘Did I turn yer away just now?’

‘Well, no, you didn’t, and I’m glad of it.’

‘And did I let yer have yer way with me?’

He laughed. ‘I’ll say you did.’ The smile fell away. ‘But I do so want to wed you, Fanny. Say yes and be done with it.’

‘And if I said yes, what would yer do, tell me that?’

‘I’d go straight back and tell her.’

‘Liar! You’re scared to death of the old battleaxe. Admit it, yer bleedin’ coward!’

Bill dropped his gaze, his voice trembling as he confessed lamely, ‘You don’t know what she’s like, Fanny darling. She’s got a fearful bloody temper.’

‘Oh, has she now? Well, in case yer didn’t notice, so have I.’ Opening the door, she propelled him on to the pavement. ‘Now piss off afore I really lose me temper.’ Fanny slammed the door and turned to Bridget. ‘Daft bugger, he never learns. Come into the parlour.’

The parlour was well furnished and cosy, and whenever Bridget visited, she always felt at home. ‘You were a bit rough on him, weren’t you?’ she chuckled. ‘Poor soul. He doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going.’