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parents through the wall in the next room, her father’s voice a low persuasive murmur, and then she would hear her mother ... but she didn’t want to think about that. She never liked to think about that.
    She shifted her shoulders. She wanted to turn over, but the movement would disturb Jessie. The sleeping Pearl had been lifted down onto the hurly bed to lie beside Granny.
    Kate blew out a long breath. Why did things have to change? Why couldn’t it be like it had always been between her and Robbie? She had placed the carving of the robin on the narrow shelf which ran along the back wall of the bed recess. She couldn’t see it, but she knew it was there. He had made it specially for her, spent hours on it probably, getting it just right.
    She tried not to think about it. Nor about how his lips had felt on hers, or how strong and warm his arms had been as he had held her against him. And yet, she had started it, with that quick impulsive kiss. She had started it.

Chapter 3
    Neil Cameron seemed to have gained another four inches in height.
    ‘He’s that puffed up with the excitement of the occasion.’ whispered Jessie from behind her hand to Kate. ‘I’m scared he’s going to burst!’
    Mind you, thought Kate, suppressing a laugh and looking around at the other men, you could say the same for all of them. It was launch day at Donaldson’s and work had come to a standstill. The men stood eagerly awaiting the arrival of the launch party onto the platform which had been constructed at the bow of the ship.
    Kate had to admit that she was feeling pretty pleased herself. It had been decreed that the men could bring their families to the launch. Agnes Baxter had come up with the dress she’d promised Kate back in December. It was a sprigged cotton with a honey-coloured background, decorated with tiny flowers in navy and dusky pink. She’d also found a knitting pattern for a bolero which Kate herself had made. It was navy, picking up the colour of the tiny flowers in the dress.
    Jessie had knitted one too. Hers was yellow to go with her best frock - which had been Kate’s best frock until she had grown out of it last year. Agnes, looking unusually ferocious with a mouthful of pins, had pronounced the necessity of letting the new dress out at the bust. ‘You’ll never have a flat chest, Kate Cameron, and that’s a fact. Now hop up onto the table so I can check the hem.’
    Kate, on display in the kitchen in front of Mammy, her sisters, Granny and what seemed like a sizeable part of the female population of Yoker, had let her hair fall over her face to hide her embarrassment. Fashion might decree a boyish figure and the new bust bodices might be designed to help a girl achieve just that, but Kate knew she was a hopeless case.
    Even Mammy had seemed to enjoy all this prettifying. She hadn’t even complained when Neil had found the few shillings necessary to buy the wool for the boleros. She had put her foot down about Kate’s hair though. She might be nearly sixteen, but she wasn’t to be allowed to put it up.
    ‘You’re no’ going to put your hair up till you’re eighteen, my lady, and there’s an end to it!’
    So Kate brushed her hair till it shone and pinned her old straw hat on top of her head. Agnes had helped out again, finding a new piece of navy ribbon to trim it with.
    Kate caught sight of a tousled head about twenty yards away, over to her right. Like her, Robbie was scanning the crowd. When she caught his eye he grinned and waved. With a slight inclination of his head he drew Kate’s attention to his father standing beside him. Jim Baxter had his face lifted towards the hull of the Irish Princess , his mouth curved in a smile of pure pleasure. He had his flat cap, his bunnett , clutched to his chest, ready to fling it into the air once she was launched.
    ‘See you later,’ mouthed Robbie, and Kate nodded.
    ‘Look,’ she whispered to Jessie and Pearl, ‘Mr Baxter’s going to burst too.’