‘Don’t leave me, Nelly. Please, don’t leave me.’ Bridget had never been so frightened in her life – except perhaps when she had told Tom about what she and Harry had done.

‘Aw, lass, I’ve got to leave you. The truth is, I’ve done all I can and, God help me, it’s not enough.’

‘Be quick, Nelly,’ Bridget pleaded. ‘I’m frightened to be on my own.’

‘I’ll go like the wind,’ Nelly promised. ‘With a bit o’ luck there’ll be childer in the street. Some of them little monsters would run from here to Blackpool if you give ’em a farthing.’ Licking her chapped lips, she grinned her toothless grin and, despite feeling like death warmed over, it made Bridget smile.

Nelly took her shawl from the back of the chair, threw it about her shoulders and hurried downstairs. She almost fainted when the front door popped open just as she put her hand on the door knob. ‘By! You silly sod, Bob Morris! You frightened the life outta me.’

‘I wouldn’t do that to you, Nelly, my old love, would I?’ said the grinning young man on the doorstep mischievously. ‘Not when you’re one of my best customers, eh?’

Bob Morris bought milk and eggs from the surrounding farms and then sold them on round the streets. Twenty-eight years old and a familiar sight with his mop of fair hair and his laughing dark eyes, he was well liked by everybody. ‘What’s the rush anyway?’ he wanted to know.

Nelly’s answer was to grab him by the arm and march him down the passageway. ‘This is your chance to do a bit of good for somebody,’ she told him. ‘I’ve a young woman here who’ll be carried out this door in a box if I don’t get help, and quick.’ She propelled him up the stairs. ‘Mop her brow,’ she instructed, ‘and hold her hand when she cries out. If she’s not rid of that bairn soon, it’s curtains for the both of them.’ She opened the bedroom door and thrust Bob inside. ‘Bridget,’ she said, ‘here’s a friend to stay with you till I get back.’

Bridget looked up, her eyes huge in her white face.

‘I’m sorry,’ stuttered Bob, ‘I’ll go if you like.’ In fact he wanted nothing more than to run out of there. The poor creature in the bed was obviously in a desperate way. ‘Nelly seemed to think I could help you, but I can’t,’ he finished lamely. ‘I’m sorry.’

Bridget’s smile put him to shame. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she said. ‘I need to tell someone… before… before…’ The words caught in her throat. ‘I’ve done a terrible thing, and now I’m frightened to face my maker.’

Softly he came forward, shocked to see who it was. ‘Bridget!’ His eyes widened with surprise. ‘Bridget Mulligan!’

Bridget patted the bed. ‘I need to tell someone. Please.’ Deeply moved, and a little afraid, he came and sat beside her.

Out in the street, Nelly spied a lad playing with a hoop. ‘Want to earn a penny, do you?’ Collaring him by the ear, she gave him as big a fright as Bob Morris had given her.