‘What if I have?’ His manner was strange to her, and most disturbing.

‘Look… I’m sorry we had a fight, Joe. I was wrong to tackle you the way I did. And you was wrong to try and take advantage of Molly. You must have really worried her… else she wouldn’t have gone off like that in the middle of the night. Oh, she had to make a move, I know that… and I’d already asked her to leave the bairns with me till she were settled. But I don’t like the idea that you forced her hand, Joe. I don’t like it at all!’ All this time, Tilly had deliberately kept her voice low, because of small, curious ears not too far away. ‘She’s a good sort is Molly. And she’s had a bloody hard time of it.’

‘Leave me be!’

‘Aw, lad… don’t keep bad blood between us,’ pleaded Tilly. His answer was to close the door in her face. ‘Have it your way,’ she called out, ‘but you did wrong, Joe Watson. You think on it, and you’ll see your old ma’s right. You did wrong!’

When there came no reply from the other side of the door, Tilly tutted loudly and, shaking her head angrily, she returned to the back parlour, where numerous little eyes turned to look at her, anxious and hungry.

Sensing that the children were made nervous by the raised voices between her and Joe, she promptly set about putting them at their ease. ‘Oh, take no notice of grown-ups,’ she declared, putting on a smile to cover her anxieties. ‘They shout at nothing sometimes… just like you little tinkers.’ Sitting herself on the standchair at the head of the table, she clapped her hands to draw their attention. When all eyes were looking at her, she bent her head, peering over her brows to ensure the children followed suit. Then, being satisfied, she quickly gave up a prayer of gratitude for the ‘adequate spread of food on our table’. After which, the muffins and preserve were duly shared out, and everyone appeared to forget about the angry young man in the next room.

That is, all but little Sal and Tilly; the one hoping desperately that her mammy would soon be back to take them to their ‘own place’, and the other sad at heart that such a rift should ever come between her and her eldest. At the same time though, Tilly stood by her accusation that Joe had done wrong. She was made also to think on Molly – finding her way to London Town along dark and unfamiliar streets. What would she face once she got there, eh? Strangers? Hostility? Happen sommat far worse. Who knows, thought Tilly. Who knows.

Some time past midnight, Joe woke up in the throes of a terrible nightmare. Sweat was trickling down his back and the sound of a fist thumping against wood resounded in his head long after his eyes were open and his senses returned. Bang! Bang! The whole house seemed to tremble around him. Rising above the din came Tilly’s voice, terrified and shocked. ‘Joe!… What in God’s name is happening? Joe! Joe!’ Her cries became a scream.