Bridget discreetly regarded her, quickly coming to the conclusion that she was a woman of the streets. Her face was thick with rouge and lipstick, a crimson shawl was flung haphazardly about her shoulders, and her dress was cut so low at the breast it was a wonder she didn’t catch her death of cold. The woman was obviously touting for business.

‘Behave yourself, Joe!’ Bridget chastised with a smile. ‘She’s too much for a man of your age.’

‘Don’t you believe it, my girl. I might be longer in the tooth and dafter in the head, but I’ve not lost my touch where women are concerned. What! When I were a young man, women flocked from everywhere just to get a glimpse of me.’ Brushing the palms of his hands over his balding head, he sighed. ‘Mind you, I had a full head of hair then, and a smile of flashing teeth.’ Reality seemed to sober him. ‘Aw, who am I kidding? I’m just a silly old man whose cock stopped crowing years ago. You’re right, lass, I should know better.’

Bridget heard the genuine regret in his voice. ‘That one wouldn’t be suitable for you, Joe,’ she consoled him. ‘Look at her now.’ The woman was chatting up a younger stallholder with broad shoulders and pockets bulging with money. ‘You want somebody less brazen and more… homely.’ That was the kindest way she could put it, without offending.

‘I know what you mean,’ he conceded. ‘You think I should settle for a woman of my own age, who’d be content to wash my socks and have a good meal waiting for me of an evening.’

‘Something like that.’

‘Happen you’re right, lass.’ He eyed the woman with a glint of naughtiness in his eye. ‘All the same, I wouldn’t mind keeping that one warm of a night.’ Like a schoolboy imparting a secret, he muttered, ‘Mind you, there’d be no need of that, would there? Judging by the flimsy frock she’s wearing, the bugger’s too hot-arsed to feel the cold.’

‘There you go then.’ Bridget thought he must have been a real terror in his day.

Just then Ruth sat up in her carriage, big eyes looking about.

Joe saw her first. ‘Hello, young’un. Bless ’er heart, she never wakes crying, does she, eh?’

Bridget gave her a hug. ‘Hungry, are you, sweetheart?’

‘Tired, Mammy.’ Ruth yawned widely. Then she threw her arms round Bridget’s neck and seemed to go back to sleep.

‘Hey!’ Gently raising her daughter, Bridget warned, ‘I don’t want you going back to sleep just now, you won’t sleep tonight else. And anyway, we’ll be away home in a few minutes.’

Ruth wouldn’t be budged.

‘Better put her back in the carriage,’ Joe laughed. ‘She’s gone right off to sleep again.’

Bridget nodded. ‘Must be the fresh air,’ she commented, smiling at Joe. ‘Usually I can’t keep her still for a minute at a time.’

‘She’s a pretty thing, an’ no mistake.’ Much to his regret, Joe did not have a daughter. ‘I’d have given anything for a lass, but all I got were three boys, and none o’ the buggers turned out well. They were off on their own as soon as they knew they weren’t gonna live off me. Then their mam ran off with the coalman ten years back, and I’ve been on my own ever since.’ A look of anger darkened his face. ‘I hope to God I never clap eyes on any of ’em again!’ And though the anger remained, there was a note of sadness in his trembling voice as he told Bridget, ‘If she turned up tomorrow, I’d never have her back. I’m far better on my own.’