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friendship.’
    Jinnie saw red. ‘Sadie only done what I asked her to.’
    ‘Yes but why did you ask her? You’re far too young to take such risks.’
    ‘ I’ll do what I bleedin’ want! ’ Jinnie was shouting now, feeling desperation close in. Again she made a move to the door, swiftly blocked.
    ‘Tell me, Jinnie. Who put you in this condition? Who was the father of your child?’
    Jinnie wanted to shout that there hadn’t been any child, not a proper one anyroad. Just a load of blood and gore. And there was certainly no father. But how could she deny it when this know-all of a woman had seen everything. Even so there were some matters best kept to herself. The fewer people who knew of Billy Quinn’s role in this affair, the safer it would be for her. From Quinn himself for one. Failed Catholic or no, he wouldn’t take kindly to what Sadie had done that day, either to Jinnie herself or the beginnings of what might’ve been, in the fullness of time, his son.
    ‘Don’t matter who he is, it’s none of your business.’
    ‘I think it is, since you nearly died and...’
    Rage soared through Jinnie’s veins and she wanted to smack the self satisfied, condescending smile right off that lovely face which looked down upon her so pityingly. ‘If you say that one more time there’ll be blue-murder done, I swear it. How d’you know I would’ve died? I might not have. Anyroad, I’ll thank you to keep your interfering, do-gooding nose out of what’s none of your bleedin’ business.’ Jinnie pushed her small face close up to Bella’s. ‘Have you got that into yer thick, middle-class skull?’
    Bella sighed. ‘Yes Jinnie. I’m sorry.’
    ‘Good! Then I’m off, and don’t try to stop me.’
    ‘If that’s what you want.’
    ‘It is.’
    Bella stepped back, indicating with a gesture that the way was clear for her to leave and, after the smallest hesitation, Jinnie stuck her nose in the air and did just that, slamming the bedroom door behind her as if to prove her contempt.
    She stamped down the long, sweeping staircase, filled with a sudden terror that she might fall over, her pins were that wobbly. It took several attempts before she finally managed to pull open the heavy mahogany door and gain the sanctity of the pavement outside the double-fronted terraced house whereupon she fell to her knees, gasping for breath. Head bowed and stomach clenched in agony, Jinnie muttered furiously to herself between long, deep intakes of breath.
    ‘Just shows how much she cares, uppity madam. Picks me up and drops me off at her posh house without so much as a by-your-leave. Then lets me walk out without even a goodbye or a nice-to-have-met you.’
    ‘Hello! Were you speaking to me?’
    Jinnie almost fell over in shock at the sound of the deep voice so close by. It came from a man bending down beside her and she found herself gazing up into a pair of grey eyes regarding her not out of pity, but with open admiration. It wasn’t the handsomest face she’d ever seen, not by a long chalk, having pale freckled skin and a thin bony nose but it must surely have been the kindest. The mouth was wide and curled up at the corners, the eyes bright with curiosity. To Jinnie it seemed quite perfect, like the face of an overgrown choir boy. And somewhere deep inside, her stomach gave an odd little lurch.
    ‘You must be Jinnie, the one who clashed with a horse.’
    ‘Horse?’ Jinnie said, bemused.
    ‘Your accident with the runaway cart horse. Must’ve been quite a shaker.’ He straightened, held out one hand to assist her, smiling warmly. ‘Edward Ashton’s the name. I’m Isabella’s little brother, though not so little these days, I suppose.’
    Not daring to touch the hand, Jinnie scrabbled to her feet unaided and gazed up at him in wonder. ‘No. You’re not - not little at all.’ Now that they were both standing she could see how tall he was. Tall and thin, like a long drink of water as her mother would’ve said. But as