‘You’re wrong, Mick.’ Molly’s gaze was defiant, albeit a little desperate, he thought. ‘Jack will always come back… he’d never leave us for good.’ There came into her eyes a faraway look, and, as always, she was out of his reach. ‘He loves us, you see.’ Turning from Mick’s earnest gaze, Molly looked out of the porthole, her dark eyes scanning the wharf as though searching for someone. When the infant stirred behind her, she quickly glanced round to assure herself that the child was safe enough. Then, facing Mick, she went on in a quiet voice, ‘You don’t have to tell me how worthless Jack is… I’ve known for a long time. You ask how I ever got “tangled up with the likes of him”, and I can only tell you that he came to my help when I desperately needed someone. I were all alone in the world, Mick… very young and very frightened.’ Here she paused. Images of an old woman came into her mind – a limping, bedraggled woman with thin, tousled hair and a kindly face that was ravaged by a rough life and a particular love for ‘a drop o’ the ol’ stuff’. Old Sal Tanner had been Molly’s anchor in life, her mammy, her friend, and the kindest, dearest, most cantankerous lady on God’s earth. Leaning back in her seat, Molly fought down the tears. ‘You know of old Sal Tanner… her as brought me up from a babe in arms?’

‘I don’t come from these parts but I know of old Sal right enough.’ He smiled that broad smile which somehow disturbed Molly in spite of herself. ‘Who didn’t know of her? The old tramp’s become a kind of legend in these ’ere parts. It’s a strange story, Molly… how she always told that you belonged to the little people… how she found you in the gutter and all.’ His voice grew more serious as he asked, ‘Did she ever reveal your true parents?’

‘She didn’t know, bless her. She had strange ideas, did old Sal, but she was very special to me.’ The memories came flooding back. ‘There was this timepiece she used to keep hidden… a pretty, delicate little thing it were… with writing on the case. Old Sal would show it to me from time to time… almost afraid of it, she was… said it were right next to me when she found me in the gutter… “A sign from the little people”, she claimed. At first, I believed everything she told me. But then, as I got older and realized that Sal’s ideas were a bit stranger than other folks’, I got to thinking about that there timepiece. I wondered about the writing on it, and promised myself that, one day, I’d learn to read. Then I might find out where I really came from, and where I belonged.’

‘Where is it now…? This timepiece? Will you show it to me?’

‘It’s gone… gone, long before Jack taught me to read.’