‘All the more reason why yer shouldn’t be draggin’ yerself all over Blackburn!’ Fanny leaned further into the sideboard. ‘I’m bleedin’ sure there was a bottle o’ good stuff tucked away in ’ere.’

‘I’m not draggin’ meself all over Blackburn,’ Bridget protested. ‘I’ve come to see you because if I didn’t get out of that house, I think I might go mad. The nearer I get to birthing, the more bad-tempered Tom gets. Honest to God, Fan, I’m at my wits’ end.’

‘Aye, well, you can understand him being bad-tempered,’ Fanny mumbled. She’d found a mangy humbug and, after removing the layer of dust and grit, popped it into her mouth. ‘I mean, what man would take kindly to his wife carrying another man’s child?’ The humbug clattered against her teeth, making her speak through half-closed lips. ‘I’d be the very same,’ she went on. ‘What! I’d have sent you packing through the door a long time ago.’ Fanny prided herself on her outspoken nature. ‘The man loves yer, it’s plain to see.’

Bridget agreed, but it didn’t make life any easier. ‘Sometimes I wish he had thrown me out on the streets. At least I’d know where I stood. Now, the way things are between us, it’s like living with a stranger, only worse, because he has a right to both me and the child. I had to give up work two months ago and he knows I have no means of support. It’s as if he takes pleasure in having power over me.’

‘When the bairn’s born, come here and stay with me.’ Accidentally swallowing the humbug, Fanny gave a strange little gulp. ‘I mean it,’ she emphasised, her eyes watering. ‘The two of us could look after each other.’

Bridget had thought long and hard about that, but it wasn’t the answer. ‘I know you mean well,’ she said gratefully, ‘and I won’t forget it. But in a funny way I’m hoping that when the little one’s born Tom will come to love it like his own. And maybe, after a time, he might come to love me again. Either way, the bairn will have a father – and his name. Deep down Tom’s a good man. He always was. It’s just that right now, with the way things are, he’s going through a bad time.’

‘Hmm. Good man or not, he’s got something out of all this too, and don’t you forget it.’ Pausing in her search, Fanny popped her head up and peered over the table. ‘He’s a canny bugger an’ all.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean there’s only you, me and Tom who knows the bairn isn’t his. Even Harry doesn’t know. Ain’t that right?’

‘Yes, thank God.’

‘Well then. As far as everybody else is concerned, Tom Mulligan is about to become a father. And, that being so, he’s a better man than his brother, and a better man than folk took him for.’

‘He’s still been shamed.’

‘Does he know you’ve told me?’