At the window she peered out into the sky, still quite dark, but beginning to shimmer at the edges where the sun was coming up. ‘Bloody cats, I shouldn’t wonder!’ muttered Tilly, wondering what had disturbed her at such an unearthly hour. ‘Climbing atop o’ one another… mating and marauding! Waking decent folk from their beds.’

Opening the window she leaned out, ready to throw the first thing to hand at any moving shadow. ‘Get away with you!’ she said in a loud whisper, shaking her fist and almost toppling over the window-ledge when she saw a movement in the yard below. Curious, she peered harder. ‘That ain’t no bloody cat!’ she muttered. ‘I’m buggered if it ain’t a fella!’

Quickly Tilly closed the window and rushed back to the bed where she wrapped herself in a shawl. Grabbing the oil-lamp, which she had lit on waking, Tilly went from the room, satisfied herself that all the children were fast asleep, and then began her way downstairs. ‘And where’s that Molly?’ she muttered. ‘What the devil’s going on?’

On reaching the parlour, Tilly’s temper was not improved by the discovery that her eldest son was not yet tucked up asleep on the couch. ‘There’d best be some good reason for such goings-on,’ she told the empty couch, ‘or my name’s not Tilly Watson!’

Passing through the back parlour to the scullery, Tilly was shocked: as she swung her lamp by the big table in the centre of the parlour, she caught sight of a folded note with the name ‘TILLI’ written on it in big, bold letters.

Setting down the lamp on the table, Tilly carefully unfolded the note, screwing up her eyes in typical fashion as she read, with great difficulty, the following large scrawl:

Tilli,

I’ve gon to London.

Pleez mind my babis til I can fetch them. Tell them I luv them.

I’ve put my trust in you and God.

Luv, Molly.

‘Well, I’m buggered!’ Tilly was so overcome that she felt the need to fall into a nearby standchair. ‘Well… I’m buggered!’ Suddenly it came to her that something untoward must have happened for Molly to have made such a swift and fearful decision to leave her precious young ’uns behind. Oh Molly knew right enough that they’d be well looked after and kept safe by Tilly – there was no question. ‘But she were so agin it!’ Tilly said aloud in a shocked voice. ‘I thought she’d never agree to leave them young ’uns… though o’ course I knew that it would be for the best. Oh aye! They’d be much better off with me… tucked up in bed of a night, with a proper roof over their heads and sommat substantial in their bellies. And they’ll be waiting here when their mammy comes to fetch them.’ Tilly had no qualms that Molly had done the right thing. What she could not understand was what in heaven’s name had driven Molly to run off in the middle of a cold, dark night? It weren’t like the lass. Not at all. Molly were the sort who would have waited till morning, when she could have talked her plans over proper, and explained to the bairns why it were best to leave them with Tilly. ‘And has she even a shilling to her name?’ Tilly wondered out loud. ‘Or a bite to eat with her?’ A quick rummage in the pantry revealed that Molly had taken nothing from there. ‘Though the Lord only knows, there ain’t much in there to begin with!’ tutted Tilly. Then she received a second shock.