‘Who’s there?’ Molly thought she heard something and would have clambered to her feet if Joe had not quickly stepped into the moonlight. ‘Oh, it’s you, Joe.’ There was relief in her voice. As he came down the steps towards her, she discreetly dried her eyes on the corner of her shawl. For one awful minute, Molly had imagined it might be little Sal standing there. Her eldest daughter had an uncanny knack of knowing when her mammy was most in need of comfort. Molly had been careful of late not to lean too heavily on that darling girl. For she was only a bairn, however much she tried to be ‘growed up’. To her shame, Molly had been in real danger of forgetting that. Then there was the matter of schooling. Tilly mentioned only the other day that the authorities were sending men round to check on the children. It was all becoming a real nightmare.

‘You’re a strange one, Molly darling.’ Joe eased himself on to the same step as Molly, casually smiling into her dark eyes and thinking how beautifully they sparkled in the soft moonlight. The tears were still bright in the blackness of her gaze as she returned his smile. Encouraged, he gently insisted, ‘You ain’t fooled me… I heard you crying, gal.’ He was careful not to reveal that he had also heard her call out Mick’s name, and that he could easily have strangled her because of it.

‘Oh, don’t concern yourself,’ Molly was quick to tell him. She was embarrassed that he had seen her crying. ‘Women do get weepy sometimes.’ Her smile deliberately brightened as he continued to gaze at her. She wanted no sympathy. Though she was grateful that Joe had not complained about her and the children being here, she was in no mood to discuss her personal problems.

‘So, it’s mind me own business, is it?’ Joe teased, boldly taking Molly’s hand in his, and being pleasantly surprised by the warmth in those long, fine fingers. ‘You needn’t worry,’ he told her with a cheeky wink, ‘Joe Watson knows when not to poke his nose where it don’t belong.’ His hand on hers remained steady, even though inside he was trembling with excitement. ‘Y’know, Molly… I’ve never said this to any woman, but I admire you. The way you manage to cope without a fellow… and you being made responsible for three young ’uns. There’s not many women as’d gladly shoulder such a burden. Mind you, them three bairns o’ yourn… well, they’re great little troopers. Just like their mammy,’ he grinned, priding himself on knowing the surest way to Molly’s heart was through the brats. ‘They do you credit, gal. And don’t think I ain’t seen how you spend many an hour walking young Tom up and down the yard… encouraging him to make the best use of his bad leg, so’s he might grow up without being altogether crooked.’ Here, he shook his head and was obliged to be truthful. ‘You mustn’t fool yourself on that score though, Molly, because it’s as plain as the lovely nose on your face that one o’ Tom’s legs is a terrible lot shorter than the other.’ When he saw the light dim in Molly’s eyes, he cursed himself, ‘Aw, now… I ain’t saying as all your efforts is in vain, or that you should give up. No indeed!’ Seeing his slender chances slipping away, he tenderly squeezed her hand and filled his voice with compassion. ‘Take no notice o’ me, Molly. You just carry on doing what you think best. It’s amazing what a body can do, if they put their mind to it. There ain’t a single thing wrong with a body holding faith in miracles… an’ who says they can’t happen, eh? Who says that? Not me, an’ that’s a fact!’