‘Does Emma Tanner know I’m here?’ Molly believed Nelly. But for old reasons, she dared not trust Emma Tanner; it was possible that, unbeknown to Nelly, Justice Crowther was using Emma to capture the urchin who, he was wrongly convinced, had snatched his grandson.

‘No. I have written to Emma of course, but I’ve said nothing about our arrangement. Emma hasn’t been well since her son’s tragic death.’ She smiled sadly and for a moment was lost in thoughts of a reunion that couldn’t come too soon for her. ‘It’ll be a lovely surprise fer her when she gets back. But for the minute, she’s got too much on her mind to worry about what’s going on here.’

‘You said she won’t be back till March… I’ll be long gone by then,’ protested Molly.

Seeming somewhat surprised at Molly’s outburst, Nelly eyed her curiously. ‘So yer won’t stay on, eh?’ She seemed genuinely upset. ‘Aw, that’s a real shame, gal… I thought we were getting on right well and all. And what about little Sal?… She’s coming on champion with her learning… yer ain’t being fair ter the poor little soul, are yer, eh?’ Her look was imploring. ‘Yer will change yer mind, won’t yer?… Aw, Molly gal… say ye’ll change yer mind.’

To Molly’s reckoning, what Nelly was doing now was nothing short of blackmail. Fancy trying to persuade her to stay by using little Sal. ‘No, I won’t be staying on.’ Her basic, intuitive fears urged her to get to her feet and argue. ‘Soon as ever I’ve served my time… I’ll be going.’ She was adamant.

‘What d’yer mean… “served yer time”… yer make it sound like a prison sentence!’ Nelly had taken umbrage at the younger woman’s rigid attitude. When back came the reply that Molly saw her time here as being exactly that… a ‘prison sentence’, Nelly was made to realize how, if she were in Molly’s shoes, she too might feel the same way. ‘All right, gal,’ she said in a softer, more understanding voice, ‘I don’t want it said that I’d ever hold a body against its will. So, yer can go whenever yer like. Today, if you’ve a mind.’ She gazed for a moment longer at Molly’s surprised expression, then swinging round, with her full, stiff, taffeta skirt making an angry swishing sound, she went to the door, pausing there to tell Molly in injured and clipped tones, ‘I could have sworn you were content in yer work… and what with the young ’un making such great strides in her learning, I was sure you’d be with us fer a long time.’ She was puzzled by Molly’s attitude, and suddenly a thought crossed her mind. ‘It ain’t the wages I pay yer, is it?… Yer don’t think the wages is mean, and yer can’t manage on them, is that it?’

‘No, no, it isn’t that,’ Molly told her. ‘The wages are very generous and I manage well enough. No, it’s nothing to do with wages. And as for the learning you’ve given little Sal, well, I really am grateful.’ Molly hesitated. For one stupid, careless minute there, she had felt so guilty and hated herself for the way Nelly seemed so upset, that she had almost confided her fears. Thank God she had bitten her tongue in time, because how could she tell this woman who had been so kind to her that she suspected Emma of deceiving them both. How could she say that Emma’s uncle, the hated Justice Crowther, was baying for her blood, and that he might have recruited Emma to find her?