Greatly excited, yet not wanting Harry to be left dead on the ground in case she was lumbered with looking after their elderly parents, Alice ran down the stairs and out of the front door. ‘Leave him alone, Tom Mulligan!’ Running towards them as they tumbled and fought on the other side of the street, she threatened to call the police if they didn’t stop.

Through swollen eyes Tom saw her coming towards them. Harry turned to see who it was, and in that split second was knocked down yet again by a cowardly blow to the head.

Before he could recover, Tom had him by the throat, squeezing so hard that Harry could not breathe. ‘One word to anyone about what’s happened between you and Bridget, and I’ll throw her out on the street without a second thought. If I remember rightly, you’ve enough on your plate without taking on a harlot. Believe me, you bastard, I’ll ruin her name and yours with it – your father’s too! He won’t be the respected tailor then, will he, eh? So think on what you’re doing to others before you open your mouth!’

With that he thrust Harry aside and made off, a bizarre sight with his clothes torn, his face swollen and bloody, one arm hanging limp by his side, and his legs hardly able to keep him upright.

‘I’ve done what I set out to do,’ he muttered through swollen lips. ‘I’ve salvaged my pride, and made sure he’ll keep his mouth shut. He’ll never know he fathered a bastard. And neither will anybody else.’

Behind him, Alice was firing all manner of questions as she helped Harry into the house. ‘What the devil have you been up to, you bloody fool? Why was Tom Mulligan here? Why did he go at you like a mad bull? Crazy, he was! Answer me, Harry. What have you done to antagonise him like that?’

Shaking her off, Harry bent over the sink and washed the blood from his face. Then he tipped a jug of cold water over his head and ran his hands through his hair. ‘None of your business,’ he said through his dripping hair. He sat down heavily in a kitchen chair, leaned forward and covered his face with his hands. ‘It’s between me and Tom Mulligan.’ Gingerly, he felt his jawbone. From the pain he had thought it must be broken, but thankfully it wasn’t.

‘I won’t go till you tell me what you’ve been up to.’

Harry scowled at her, his voice rasping, ‘Didn’t I just say it’s none of your bloody business?’ Raising the back of his hand, he wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth. ‘Go to your room, Alice,’ he snapped. The last thing he needed right now was Alice and her sense of righteousness.

The wickedest of smiles crossed her plain features. ‘You might as well tell me, Harry, because I heard most of it anyway.’

‘You what?’

‘I heard.’

‘Oh? And what did you hear, eh?’