Jimmy glanced at the mirror above the kitchen table and saw a skinny urchin in ragged trousers and shirt beneath a brown corduroy jacket much too big for him. He noticed that he must have lost his cap at some stage and felt guilty because Mr Theaker had loaned it to him. But perhaps next day he might scout around, see if he could find it. His straight dark hair was in need of a cut, his pale face was smeared with dirt from his tree-climbing activities, and there was a worry line between his dark brows, which was a result of his having virtually lost his little sister. If she stayed where she was and simply waited he was sure she would be safe, for the major and his family would see she came to no harm, but he knew Mo. The moment ten o’clock struck, she would have started to worry, and he, her protector, could do nothing to reassure her of his safety until he could remember the address of the house to which she had gone so happily. He realised with a stab of horror that he could not remember the major’s name either; what on earth was he to do? But Miss Trent was looking at him enquiringly and Jimmy’s mind, which had been wandering the moonlit streets, came back to the house in which he was now sitting. ‘Sorry, Miss Trent. I’m Jimmy Trewin, and my sister’s Maureen, only everyone calls her Mo. She’s a darling. When you meet her you’ll scarce believe we’re brother and sister ’cos she’s that pretty.’ He hesitated. ‘You’re a teacher, aren’t you?’

Miss Trent had been sipping her soup whilst frowning over the problem of what Jimmy should do, but at his words her eyebrows shot up. ‘What? As it happens you are correct; was it just a lucky guess or do I have “teacher” tattooed on my forehead?’

Jimmy laughed with her, then shook his head and pointed to her small bookshelves. ‘It’s your spectacles and the way you do your hair, all pulled back off your face,’ he explained. ‘And the books. You’ve got Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Bleak House, David Copperfield and lots more whose titles I don’t recognise, but a friend of our mam was a teacher and her bookshelves were full of stuff like that.’

Miss Trent stood up, patting Jimmy’s shoulder and offering more soup. ‘You’re a clever lad,’ she said approvingly. ‘When we’ve finished the soup we’ll go and search for your sister. Where did you part from her, can you remember?’

Jimmy brightened. ‘Quite near where Mr Theaker sets up his stall on Great Homer Street,’ he said. He glanced shyly at Miss Trent. ‘Mr Theaker’s a grand feller. He’s been letting us sleep under his stall, like in a canvas tent, ever so warm and comfy, but of course I couldn’t leave Mo there while I went cutting holly. So Mr Theaker took us to meet this major chap, who said that he’d look after her while I were busy making some money, and that we can both stay with them, just over Christmas like. Cyril’s ship sails before the end of the year, so we’ll have no worries after that. His mam is a beast but we can cope with her.’