When he couldn’t speak any more, and the tears blurred his vision so he couldn’t see that familiar face, he lifted the small figure and carried him up to his bedroom. He laid him on his bed and covered him over. ‘Sleep now, old man,’ he said. ‘You’ve earned your rest.’

As he went towards his mother’s room, Alice emerged from there. ‘Mother is still fast asleep. I’ll go for the doctor now.’

There was a softness about Alice that he had not seen for a long time. ‘Was it my fault?’ he asked. ‘Did he hear the row between us? Was it that that killed him, do you think?’ He couldn’t bear to think of it.

Alice shook her head. ‘It was work that killed him, Harry,’ she said kindly. ‘Not you, and not me.’

‘I hope so.’ He shivered.

‘There is no way he could have known about you and that woman,’ Alice assured him. ‘And no one ever will know because I won’t tell. What happened between you and her will never see the light of day from me.’

‘Thank you for that.’ His mind was easier now, but not his heart. In the room behind him his father lay, and with him the greater part of his own life. ‘I owe you a debt of gratitude.’

The merest suggestion of a smile lit her eyes. ‘I’ll keep your secret, Harry,’ she said slyly, ‘but you must realise that it falls on you alone to take care of us now.’

As she walked away, Harry knew he would always be at her mercy.

Chapter Four

Halfway up the hill, Bridget paused to get her breath. ‘By! I’m like an old cow ready for the knacker’s yard.’ Almost eight months pregnant and with the August sun blazing down on her, she thought she would never make it to Fanny’s house. ‘Keep going,’ she urged herself. ‘It’s only a step or two further.’

In fact it was another half mile, but she caught her breath and was soon on her way again.

Fanny herself was only a fortnight from birthing, but she couldn’t believe her eyes when she opened the door to see Bridget there. ‘My God!’ Propelling her inside, she chided, ‘Will yer look at the state o’ you. Face as red as a ripe tomato and sweating like you’ve done two rounds in a boxing ring. Whatever do you think yer playing at? D’yer want to drop the bairn in the street, is that what yer after?’

‘I thought the walk up Montague Street would do me good,’ Bridget explained.

‘Did yer now? Well, yer a silly mare, that’s all I have to say.’ Shoving Bridget into a chair she told her, ‘Sit yer arse there, me darlin’, and don’t move.’ Waddling away, she grinned over her shoulder. ‘I reckon you and me ’ave got summat to celebrate.’

Glad to remain in the chair, Bridget stretched out her legs while Fanny rummaged in the sideboard. ‘I’ll be glad when this’s born,’ Bridget said. ‘I’m getting so I can hardly breathe.’