‘Are you ill, Tom?’ She had noticed lately that he wasn’t eating or sleeping well, and now although he was talking to her his thoughts seemed far away. ‘Do you think you should see a doctor?’

Suddenly he was looking at her, really taking notice. She was so small and pale, he thought, with her rain-soaked hair peeping from beneath her beret, and her knuckles white from the weight of the bags. ‘I reckon it’s you who has need of a doctor,’ he said, crossing the room and taking the shopping bags from her. ‘You look tired out, lass.’ He headed for the kitchen with the bags. ‘I think we could both do with a hot brew, so sit yourself down.’ He turned and looked at her. ‘There’s summat I need to tell you.’ A few moments later he returned and they sat by the fire with a mug of hot tea each. ‘I’ve been thinking of moving away from here. What do you think to it?’

Bridget was shocked. ‘You’ve lived here all your life,’ she reminded him. ‘How can you move away? You’ve got a steady job here, and good work isn’t all that easy to find, you’ve said so yourself many times.’ This had all come at the wrong time. So much was rolling up on her, she couldn’t think straight. ‘Besides, where would we live?’

‘Trust me,’ he said. ‘I know what I’m doing. So, is it yes or no?’ After a moment she asked, ‘Is this anything to do with Ted Louis?’

‘What the bloody hell’s Ted Louis got to do with it?’ He leaped up, his mood abruptly ugly. ‘Who’s been talking?’ he demanded. ‘What’s been said? Come on, out with it.’

Bridget relayed what had happened at the market. ‘I never did get to find out what she meant, but it was something to do with you and Ted Louis. That’s all I know.’

He visibly relaxed. ‘Aye, and that’s all you need to know.’ Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he turned away. ‘We had a bit of a row. Something and nothing, and that’s the top and bottom of it. A simple row that men have, if you know what I mean. There are times when men like Ted Louis need to be put in their place, that’s all. Nothing for you to worry about, so let that be the last I hear of it.’ With that, he put on his coat and cap and left the house.

Wishing she had never come across Mrs Louis, and content enough to accept Tom’s word that it was ‘something and nothing’, Bridget unpacked the shopping bags. When that was done, and the kitchen tidy, she went upstairs to lie down. ‘Just a few minutes,’ she promised herself. ‘Then I’ll make him a nice fish tea.’

She felt restless. Something was obviously playing on Tom’s mind, and if it wasn’t to do with that awful Ted Louis, she wondered if the cause was closer to home.