Afraid that she might reveal too much of her lawless past, including the fact that the Justice had hounded her badly, Molly cautioned herself, and from that point on, she remained vigilant and wary of letting her tongue run away with her. In spite of Nelly’s assurances, Molly’s suspicions were not altogether allayed. Yet, for all that, she still had a sneaking liking for Nelly, who had a straightforward and winning way about her. As for Emma Tanner though, and her husband Marlow, Molly was thankful that they were on the other side of the world. By the time they returned, she intended to be long gone. Three months, Nelly had said, and Molly was obliged to agree in the circumstances. Three months. And not a minute longer!

‘Penny for them.’ Mick clicked his fingers, and Molly instantly gathered her thoughts. ‘All I’m saying is… be careful, Molly. Money and authority bring their own brand of law, and folks like you and me… well… be very careful, Molly lass. You never can tell what you’re up against.’

‘I’m nobody’s fool,’ Molly retorted, but not without a measure of gratitude in her voice; though Mick need not be so concerned. She was a survivor, and her instincts had always served her well. They would now. She would not relax her vigilance, not for a moment.

‘Are you paid well?’ Mick wanted to know, and was satisfied when Molly told him that yes, Nelly did pay her well. Fourteen shillings and sixpence a week; enough to keep the family fed and the rent up to date, besides giving Tilly a small payment for minding the two young ones.

‘And did you buy that with your wages?’ There was a softer, more intimate tone to Mick’s voice as he pointed to the blouse that Molly had on. It was a high-necked garment in the warmest shade of burgundy, with full sleeves and pleated shoulders, and a row of tiny mother-of-pearl buttons from collar to waist. The deep, striking colour brought out the fire in Molly’s dark eyes. Now, as she softly blushed beneath Mick’s admiring gaze, he reached out and would have wrapped his strong hand over Molly’s small fist.

Sensing his intention, she put her two hands into her lap and plucked at the grey serge skirt with its black hem. ‘See this?’ she said, cleverly drawing his loving eyes from her face. ‘Nelly gave me this… and the blouse. She’s got this chest in the attic… stuffed with clothes and things that don’t fit her no more.’ Molly smiled as she recalled how Nelly had explained: ‘There was a time when I were thin as a pikestaff and fancied mesel’ with the fellers… but now I’m lumpy as a cart-horse and the fellers would sooner strap a bag of oats ter me nose than put their arms round me!’ Suddenly, in the wake of Mick’s timely warning, Molly felt all the old suspicions rushing back. ‘I’ll give the blouse and skirt back… I should never have accepted them in the first place.’