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the moment. He’s visiting his uncle and aunt for the weekend. Thanks anyway.’ She was hoping Nelly wouldn’t enquire further. What would people think about her sending her son away with people she didn’t know all that well and who had given her a wrong telephone number? She might find herself at the back of the queue very quickly if they found out.
    ‘I’ve no doubt yer’ve enough ter cope with,’ said Nelly, wrapping up the fish and chips and waving away Lily’s offer of money.
    ‘Oh, thank you very much.’
    ‘Don’t mentionit, Lily – and if there’s owt we can do yer’ve only to ask—’
    ‘That’s goes fer me as well, Lily,’ said one of the woman customers. The others, not to be outdone, made the same offer.

Chapter 5

    Sunday 29th April
    Lily had just about had enoughafter the two-and-a-half-hour bus journey from Leeds. It had stopped a good dozen times before it got to Skipton where she had to get off and wait half an hour for a connection to Grassington. The last stretch had been an extremely bumpy journey and she was more than conscious of the small person inside her, due to make an appearance in a couple of weeks; it felt more like two minutes at times. When she and Michael had travelled there a few weeks ago it had been on a comfortable coach that had taken them straight there, without stopping, in an hour and twenty minutes.
    She stepped off the bus and rubbed her back, looking around, not entirely sure which direction to take. She’d know the house when she saw it. An elderly man, who looked like a native of the village, was sitting on a wooden bench smoking a pipe.
    ‘Excuse me,’ she asked him, ‘could you point me towards High Bank Lane?’
    The man jabbed over his shoulder with his pipe then looked at her stomach and gave her an ancient smile. He had teeth like a row of bombed houses but he looked friendly enough. ‘Down there, lass. When yer get ter t’ end o’ t’ lane turn right. Hey, it’s a fair old hike an’ yon babby looks as if he’s ready ter drop.’
    ‘I’ll manage.’ A thoughtstruck her. ‘Isn’t there a fair here today?’
    The old man shook his head. ‘Fair? Not today, love. If there were a fair on I’d know about it.’
    ‘Right.’
    She assumed the Oldroyds had made a mistake about the fair and set off walking, wondering how the old man knew she was having a boy. It was more than she knew. She recognised certain landmarks that told her it was a good mile to the Oldroyds’ house. Please God let them be in. The mile turned out to be nearer two and she breathed a sigh of relief when she recognised the hawthorn hedge that ran along the front boundary of the property, which was set back from the road. Her relief was short-lived – there was nobody home. Worse still, it looked uninhabited. She walked around the old, stone house and peered through the windows. The furniture was gone and the house had an air of neglect. She became suddenly very scared. What was this? She’d been speaking to the Oldroyds two days ago. Where was Michael? What had they done with him?
    The house stood on its own, a couple of hundred yards from its nearest neighbour. Lily hurried up the road and knocked on the neighbour’s door. A middle-aged woman answered.
    ‘I was wondering if you knew where Mr and Mrs Oldroyd are. I’ve come up from Leeds to see them but they’re not in.’
    ‘I’m sorry, I don’t knowany Mr and Mrs Oldroyd. Where do they live?’
    ‘Just down there at number seventy-four.’
    The woman shook her head, mystified. ‘I don’t think so, love. There’s been no one livin’ there since old Mrs Ramsden died four years back. Never heard of any Mr and Mrs Oldroyd.’
    What blood there was in Lily’s face drained away. She stood there, shocked and scared by what she’d just heard. Not knowing what to do or to say. Her mouth opened and closed, causing the neighbour some consternation.
    ‘Look, love, yer best come inside. Have yer walked from the