Deeply roused, Bridget surrendered body and soul.

When it was over and he fell asleep beside her, she prayed it was the start of everything good for them. Because now she knew he loved her. If they had a love this strong to bind them, surely it was enough.

She covered him with a blanket and nestled down beside him. The bairn was asleep in her crib, her husband was lying next to her, and her heart was more content than it had been in a long, long time.

With these pleasant thoughts on her mind, Bridget drifted into a deep, comfortable sleep.

Tom was not so content. Soon after midnight he woke and lay there, perfectly still, eyes wide open and his mind quick with memories.

Oblivious to his anguish, Bridget slept on.

She slept when he stood over her, gazing down and thinking how beautiful she was, and she slept when he bent to kiss her, saying softly, ‘I want to forget, but I can’t. I need to love you but he’s always there, spoiling everything we ever had.’

Since Bridget had brought Harry’s child into the world, he had thought long and hard about what he must do. Now, his mind was made up. ‘If only you knew how hard I’ve tried.’ There was so much regret in his voice, so much pain, and love. ‘It’s no good,’ he whispered. ‘He’ll always come between us. The child too. I know now I could never take her as my own.’

Softly, he gathered his clothes. Before leaving the room, he peered into the crib and to his astonishment the child was wide awake, looking up at him with those big, knowing eyes. When she reached out with a tiny hand, it brought a smile to his face. ‘It’s not your fault,’ he whispered. ‘But you’re not mine, and I was a fool to think you ever could be.’

In a move that surprised even himself, he took hold of that tiny hand, his heart torn in two when the fingers wound round his thumb. ‘I love your mammy too much,’ he murmured. ‘That’s the trouble.’

Quick and soft as a shadow he left the house and made his way to the quarry.

The night watchman was surprised to see him. ‘Why, Mr Mulligan! Whatever are you doing here at this time of a morning? These days you’re the first here and the last to leave.’ Cocking a quizzical eye at him, he asked, ‘I didn’t realise you were booked in for this morning though. As I remember rightly, you worked last Saturday.’

‘Your memory serves you well, Jack,’ said Tom. ‘I did work last Saturday and as a rule I don’t do two Saturdays on the trot, but the foreman got a message to me last night. It seems they’re a man short, so I’m it.’

‘That’s hard luck, and you just being a daddy an’ all.’

Tom smiled resignedly. ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ he said. ‘What with the bairn bawling all night, I couldn’t get off to sleep anyway.’