A red-headed girl in her blue Sunday dress and straw boater and with her hair in a long braid stepped up to the house in Oswy street. Both Anne and her old school friend Kate had been busy since their school days, Anne with all the work that needed to be done at home and preparing and cleaning the lines and nets, and Kate with teaching. The only occasion where they still met regularly was at Sunday school, but the Blackes didn't attend as faithfully as the Wards.

Father had given Anne special permission to miss Sunday school this afternoon to visit the Blackes. The appearance of Joe at Rose's wedding had reminded him of the family who had lived in the Cragg and with whom Hannah had been close friends. 

Anne carried a basket with a fresh cod, which she was to hand to Mrs. Blacke along with her father's regards. She looked up at the house. It was a nicer house than her own, because Mr. Blacke had a steady job and regular income, unlike her own family. Feeling slightly nervous - not for meeting Kate, but for meeting Kate's family, whom she didn't know as well - she knocked on the door.

Lottie heard the knock at the front door and piled her mending onto the kitchen table.  It was probably old Mrs Brunton knocking again to complain that boys were playing too loudly up the street outside her house.  The old biddy should go live in a convent if she wanted so much quiet.  Lottie had told her before, they weren’t even her children! So she was annoyed when she opened the door.  To her surprise, it wasn’t old Mrs Brunton. but her exact opposite: a sweet young girl, in her best frock, holding a basket.  Her frustrated expression melted to a much more pleasant one.

“Hello dear, what can I do for you?”

Anne felt a little intimidated when an angry-faced woman opened the door, though the expression disappeared in an instance. Still, Mrs. Blacke did not recognize her. Well, it had been some time.

"It's Anne Ward, Mrs. Blacke," she said in a small voice. "I came to see Kate and pass me father's regards to you and Mr. Blacke."

"So you are! How you've grown! Last time I saw you, well - it's been too long. Katie's out for a bit. Why don't you come in and wait." She wouldn't leave a child on her doorstep, she wasn't one of those parents.

Anne nodded shyly. "Thank you, Mrs. Blacke," she said while she stepped inside. She held out the basket. "Me father asked me to hand ye this an' 'e hopes it will remind ye of good times in t' Cragg."

Lottie took the basket with pleasure and an ever widening smile.

"Well that's grand! Yer father sent a proper young lady to deliver his message.  Look at you in ye best Sunday best, very pretty.  The Cragg was fun, we had some good times.  Yer mam, she was very kind to me - I remember the day ye were born.. ah seems ages ago! -" her voice trailed off, her thoughts lost in a hazy of memory, of a time now past.

"Would you like some tea, dear?  We'll use the good cups."  Lottie decided firmly. A pretty girl in her best dress on Sunday should drink her tea out of something nice.

She blushed at all the praise. She did all the women's work at home now, but everyone still treated her like a child. Not Mrs. Blacke. The good cups! Like a proper morning call. Anne glowed. "Yes please," she said, clearly quite overwhelmed.

Anne was determined to act like a proper young woman now. She looked around. "This is a lovely home, Mrs. Blacke," she commented maturely.

"Thank you, my dear." Lottie replied as she busied herself with the tea making.

"Yer mother would be proud of yer manners, dear. I can see why ye and Kate are friends."

As the kettle started to make the telltale low roiling sound of heating water, Lottie found herself continually looking back at young Anne. Warm memories of exactly this same thing with Kate a few years ago washed over Lottie. Quiet time bonding with a young girl, making her feel special. She, a mother, missed that.

Poor Anne Lottie thought.

Life was hard in the Cragg for the fisherfolk, as well Lottie knew. Plus being without a mother, things must be that much harder for young Anne. What Anne needed was a bit of mothering. Heaven knows Ben Ward wasn't exactly a bulwark of femininity.

"Right." Lottie decided again with firm action "as we 'ave tea, we must have cake. I made spotted dick for later, but would ye like to sneak some now Anne?"

Even if Lottie could only fill Anne's tiny belly, she would feel a little better.

Anne wasn't used to this much praise. She soaked it all up and it made her feel taller. Perhaps she really was for straightening her back. "Thank you, Mrs. Blacke," she muttered, quite overwhelmed.

Anne remembered her mother all too well, but it all seemed a lifetime ago. So much had happened. Anne still missed her very much, even more so now that all her sisters had left home and she was he oldest and had to look after the home and do all the woman's work and there was no one to comfort her when it all became too much. Mrs. Blacke's kind attention felt like a warm blanket to the motherless girl.

The thought of spotted dick almost made her mouth water. "Oh, yes please..." she said, wondering if this afternoon could get any better. She certainly felt special.

Right. Be the proper young lady. "I hope the whole family is well, Mrs. Black?"

Maybe that was over the top. She blushed.

Lottie saw Anne blush and smiled softly as she rose to fetch the tea and the cake.

"How nice of you to ask, Miss Ward. My family are quite well." Lottie replied in her best attempt to sound well-to-do, befitting this little tea party. But she was not an actress, and her accent quickly fell down the social ladder.

"I'm sure ye saw Joe at yer sister's weddin'?"