Standing at the door of Nelly’s parlour, cap in hand and his best jacket on, he nearly broke Bridget’s heart. ‘It’s good to see you, Tom,’ she said, going towards him with Ruth in her arms.

Dear God above, she thought, it was wonderful just to talk with him: for too long they had been like strangers.

‘You look stronger,’ he muttered. ‘You’ve got more colour in your cheeks than yesterday.’ He felt awkward, as though he didn’t know her at all.

Nelly came to stand beside Bridget. ‘The roses in her cheeks are there because you’re taking her home,’ she explained. ‘A woman needs to be in her own place. She needs to look round her own kitchen, and sit beside her own fireplace. Give the lass a few days at home and you’ll see the sun shine out of her eyes.’

While she spoke, Tom looked at Bridget and felt like a man lost. It would be hard to pick up the pieces, he knew that. But seeing her so weak and vulnerable, and knowing what she had been through, he felt nothing but pity for her. And beneath the pity lay his love for her. He loved her too much, that was the trouble. He was tormented by thoughts of how she had lain in another man’s arms. Did she give herself easily? When in the throes of coupling… when he entered her… did she have no thought in her mind for her husband? How did he make love, this other man? Was he gentle? Rough? Exciting? Or, in the end, was he no better than he was himself at satisfying her? But he must have been, because here was the child to prove it! Here, in Bridget’s arms, was the result of it all.

As so often before, anger began to rise in him. Anger, and a terrible sense of despair.

With a surge of inner strength, he pushed it away. Don’t let it destroy you, Tom! he told himself. You’re not blameless. We’ve both made mistakes. I mustn’t let the past stand in the way of starting afresh with Bridget.

Nelly’s voice interrupted his thoughts. ‘Don’t let her do too much at first,’ she told him. ‘Doctor says she’s to build her strength up afore she tackles a full day’s housework. She’ll have enough with the bairn for a time, that’s what he said.’

‘Will he be calling on her again?’ Tom asked. ‘Only they don’t come cheap, these bloody doctors.’

‘No. He’ll not be seeing her again.’

‘You never said how much I owed you for his visit.’ Digging into his pocket, Tom brought out a folded wage packet. ‘I’ll settle with you now. How much?’ Carefully, he opened the packet.

Nelly calculated on her fingers. ‘Well, if yer give me a shilling for the food and keep, that’s enough for me,’ she said. ‘And a florin for the doctor.’

‘A florin? By! That’s bloody steep, isn’t it?’

‘You wouldn’t have thought so if you’d seen him at work,’ Nelly argued. ‘Why, the man performed a bloody miracle. This lass were knocking on death’s door and he pulled her back, and the bairn with her. Thanks to him, you’ve still got a wife, and a bonny bairn into the bargain. I reckon they’re worth a florin. So pay up and look big.’