‘I was worried. I thought something must have happened. I nearly had to anchor.’ ‘Oh, what a catastrophe that would have been,’ Mary Ann snapped. ‘Well, you can thank your daughter. She ran off playing and I couldn’t find her.’ She avoided looking at Lizzie, knowing that the girl would be gazing open-mouthed at her mother’s lies. ‘I shan’t take her again.’ ‘But, Mam, I . . .’ Lizzie began, but Mary Ann rounded on her. ‘Not another word, miss, if you know what’s good for you.’ She picked up the basket and walked along the deck away from them, praying very hard that her daughter would not give her away. ‘Never mind, love,’ Mary Ann heard Dan say behind her. ‘You stay with me and Uncle Duggie.’ He laughed, indulgent as ever. ‘You can’t run away far on board, can you?’ Their meetings went on through the summer and, despite her threat, Mary Ann was obliged to take Lizzie with her. Sometimes, Randolph brought Lawrence, at other times he came alone, but on those occasions there was no opportunity for a jaunt to the woods; there was no one to keep Lizzie occupied.
