In spite of himself, Mick’s curiosity was also aroused. The fellow was right. It had to be something of great urgency that brought Emma Tanner to the wharf. He hoped it wasn’t bad news.

Mick’s curiosity was heightened when, much to his astonishment, he was quickly summoned to the office. As he made his way upstairs, how much more astonished Mick would have been to learn that the ‘terribly important’ matter to be discussed was none other than his own, precious Molly!

Chapter Ten

Molly scanned the faces at the table, just as she had done night after night, week after week, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jack. But he was not there. He was never there. Now she had begun to despair of ever seeing him again. She felt weary and heavy of heart, not certain what she should do next, or where she should search.

Since coming to Liverpool and taking the waitress job in a dockland café, Molly had worked like a slave; but she didn’t mind the work, because she considered herself fortunate to have found an employer who had given her and the children an outhouse which Molly had made into a little makeshift home for the four of them. All the same, life was far from comfortable. The outhouse was crammed with piles of books, tools and crates at one end, and the wind whistled in through the many chinks in the wooden walls. At night, the mice could be heard scampering over the flour sacks, and all in all, there was little privacy to be had.

Her employer’s self-righteous and interfering wife constantly harped on about ‘your eldest daughter should be learning the Bible and how to sew… not gallivanting about like a common vagabond’. She even thrust a book into little Sal’s hands, saying, ‘Study that, my girl, or you’ll end up useless.’ The book was a fount of knowledge, entitled Magnall’s Questions. To Sal it was a fearsome, daunting thing, to be promptly wedged in one of the draught holes, where it would serve a better purpose. But for all that, Molly was saddened by the incident.

She recalled how much little Sal had enjoyed being schooled by Nelly, and she wondered what in God’s name would become of them all.

‘You’re not dreaming of that husband of yours again, are you, Molly?’ The large, friendly fellow with the weatherworn face and huge appetite shook his head at Molly before hurriedly tucking into the meal of steak pie and vegetables that Molly had put before him.

‘You haven’t come across him on your travels, then?’ Molly had made the mistake of confiding in the old bargee, who ran a regular route between Liverpool and Manchester. He had not betrayed her confidence, but the mere fact that she had revealed her purpose here made her uneasy. Not a day or night passed when she wasn’t reminded how there were certain people who would give anything to know her whereabouts.