‘Right then. And think on, when I fetch you a bite to eat… happen a bowl of hot, nourishing soup… I want no argument about that neither. You’ll eat every last morsel?’ When Molly nodded, she appeared satisfied. ‘Want to see the lasses too, I expect?’ Without waiting for a reply, Tilly went to the fireplace where she took up the poker and began agitating the coals in the grate. When she swung round again, it was to see Molly staring up at the mantelpiece where, propped up against the brass candlestick-holder was a folded piece of paper, upon which was written the word MOLLY in big, black letters.

Molly’s heart had turned somersaults when she saw her name glaring back at her. The name, Molly, had been the very first word that Jack had taught her to read. After that, she learned his name, and then the letters of the alphabet. Although it was a trying and laborious process, Jack had taught Molly the rudiments of reading and writing. She had loved him all the more for it.

‘I forgot that were there,’ Tilly said in a sullen manner. ‘He left it, afore he ran off!’

‘You should have told me, Tilly. You should have told me straightaway.’

‘Happen,’ Tilly grudgingly conceded, ‘but if I was to tell the truth and shame the devil… I hadn’t made up my mind whether or not to burn the blessed thing!’

‘Then shame on you,’ Molly chided, but it was a gentle and kindly reprimand. ‘Will you pass it to me now… or must I get it myself?’

‘You stay where you are!’ warned Tilly, reluctantly fetching the letter and giving it into Molly’s outstretched hand. ‘I’ll leave you to read it then. But only ten minutes or so… then I’ll be back with a bite to eat for you.’ At the door she chuckled. ‘And no doubt with the children in tow.’ With a flourish of her skirt and a lingering look of disgust, she was gone.

Molly raised her quiet eyes from the closed note clutched in her hand. She wanted to open it and yet she was sorely tempted to fling it into the flames, where it would be quickly devoured. Instead she sat very still, gazing into the fire’s glow and wondering how Jack might justify his leaving them all yet again, and at a time when they badly needed him. ‘Oh, Jack… when will we ever be a proper family,’ she murmured, now unable to stem the tears that rolled down her face. After a few moments she steeled herself to open the letter, and read:

Can’t face you, Molly. Last night, I tried to drown it all in booze, but it was no good. I’m no good, as I’ve tried to tell you many times. I’m a waster, and like they say, I’m a Jack-the-Lad who’ll never settle down.

It’s not that I don’t love you, Molly darling, because God knows I do. And that’s the trouble, you see. That’s what keeps fetching me back to hurt you and turn your poor world upside down. You know yourself, you’d be better off without a bastard like me.

If it were in my power, I’d have you done up like the lady you are… with dandy clothes and a fine house, with no worries to mar them lovely black eyes. But it ain’t in my power, and it never will be. All I can bring you is trouble and heartache. But because you’ve shown me how things can be if only I might change me ways, and because I love you more than I could ever love any other woman, I’m asking you to be patient with me, darling. Don’t give up on me altogether. But, if you find yourself a decent bloke while I’m gone, then it’ll be my loss. Don’t miss out on any chances because of me.

If I get lucky, I’ll send some money, I promise. Till then, God bless, and look after yourself.

Jack

You know, I always wanted a son to be proud of. Life’s a bastard, ain’t it, Molly darling.