‘Visiting the mistress. Something to do with one of them charitable affairs that ladies get involved in.’

‘Hmh.’ Fanny put on mock airs and graces. ‘Fancies herself as a lady then, does she?’

‘Harry said it was all she had to keep her occupied.’

‘It’s all right for some, ain’t it, eh?’

‘For all I’ve got my own problems, I wouldn’t want to swap places with her.’ Bridget thought it must be a very lonely existence. ‘At least I’ve got a man about the place, and a new bairn to look forward to.’

‘You’re too easily pleased, that’s your problem, my gal.’

Glancing at the mantelpiece clock, Bridget gave a cry of horror. ‘By! Look at the time! It’s nearly four o’clock. I’ll have to be quick about it or he’ll be home before me. If his tea’s not on the table when he walks in, he can be a real misery.’

‘Let the bugger wait for his tea.’

‘No. I’d best get going, Fanny, or he’ll have the sulks worse than ever. I’ve been through it all before. Sly little glances that make me feel guilty, and pacing the floor while I’m rushing about getting the food.’ Tom could make life unbearable when he took a mind to it. ‘No, Fanny,’ Bridget clambered out of the chair, ‘I can’t be doing with it.’

‘Hang on a minute, me darlin’. It’s a lovely afternoon, and I don’t want you rushing about like some lunatic. We’ll walk to the bottom of the hill together and I’ll see you safely on your way.’

Ignoring Bridget’s protests, Fanny followed her along the passageway, chattering on about the father of her own child. ‘Bill Norman ain’t much, but he’s all I’ve got.’ Chuckling, she looked in the mirror and tidied her hair. ‘Gawd almighty! I look like summat the cat’s dragged in!’

‘You’re nearly nine months gone, Fanny Higgins, so you can be excused for looking a bit jaded. Like me. And you don’t hear me complaining, do you, eh?’

‘It’s his fault. That bloody Bill Norman. It’s that randy bugger who’s put me in this predicament and, by God, he’ll face up to his responsibilities or my name’s not Fanny Higgins.’

When she opened the door, there was Bill Norman himself standing on the doorstep. ‘Would yer believe it!’ cried Fanny, throwing her arms above her head. ‘Talk o’ the devil an’ he’s sure to appear.’ Addressing him, she declared with a huge smile, ‘Look what the cat’s dragged in. Don’t tell me you’ve left the old battleaxe at long last.’

‘I need to talk.’ He glanced at Bridget. ‘Just the two of us, Fanny,’ he stuttered. ‘We have to talk.’

Bridget took the hint. ‘I’ll be on my way.’ She stepped across the threshold. ‘Take care of yourself, Fanny. I’ll try and see you before the end of the week.’

Taking hold of her arm, Fanny said, ‘Stay where you are, gal. Let the feller have his say, then I’ll walk yer to the bottom of the hill.’ Fanny sensed trouble brewing.