Mick brought the child to her, yet made no attempt to give it into her arms. Instead, the two of them stood for a moment, he gazing down on her, and she with her eyes averted. When in a while she raised her eyes to his he was astonished to see them bright with tears. ‘What is it, Molly, me darling?’ he asked softly. ‘Why were you watching me like that?’

Something in the tone of his voice cautioned her. She must never unwittingly give him hope. But, oh, what a grand, heartwarming sight he had made just now, when he had so lovingly raised her sleeping child into those strong arms; arms that were more used to raising the cripplingly heavy loads that lined the wharves. He was a good man, she thought. A better man than Jack could ever be, but she dared not tell him that, for fear he misunderstood. ‘It’s not important,’ she said in a deliberately matter-of-fact voice. ‘I were just thinking, that’s all… just thinking.’

Before he could persist in his questions, Molly turned away and climbed the steep, narrow steps that led up to the deck. Little Sal, full and comfortable from the hearty breakfast, trotted behind her mammy, and Mick brought up the rear, cradling the infant close to his chest. This was how it should be, he thought, me and Molly, with the bairns round us and Jack-the-Lad out of the picture altogether. Yet even while his fancies took hold of him, he knew that that was all they were. Fancies. All the same, it made him tremble to think how close he had come to frightening Molly away. He would watch his tongue in future. Somehow, he had to keep his emotions in check or he’d lose her friendship altogether. He couldn’t bear the idea of not having her pay the occasional visit, when they could sit and share their troubles like two old friends. Such times were precious to him, and if he had to settle for that or nothing at all, then he would content himself with the strong friendship that existed between them.

As he watched Molly leaving the wharf, Mick’s love for her was never stronger, a frustrating love, and one which he knew would continue to cause him pain. A spiral of anger rose in him, but it was tempered by a sneaking admiration. Molly was too independent by far! Too proud, and too bloody loyal to a man who wasn’t worth salt. So what if Jack had saved Molly from the bobbies? Any man would have done the same, given the opportunity. God almighty…! It didn’t mean she had to devote her whole life to him because of it, and it didn’t mean she had to close her eyes to his many failings.

At the corner of the warehouse, Molly glanced back. When she saw that Mick was still watching, she waved and smiled. Then she was gone. For a long, aching moment, Mick stared at the place where she had paused, before issuing a deep, weary sigh. ‘Aw, Molly… my lovely Molly,’ he murmured, but there was a smile in his voice, and in his heart a warm anticipation of their next meeting.