‘He’s an odd one. He gives me the creeps,’ said Mary as she scraped her dish.

‘His heart’s in t’ right place,’ Mrs Hall told her.

‘More than can be said for the rest of him,’ replied Mary, pulling a face. ‘I thought I might get a bit of air. I’m that sick of being cooped up.’

‘Aye. Well, mind tha doesn’t go far. I don’t want to have to be sending a search party after thee,’ Mrs Hall told her.

Mary wore her clogs and put her shawl over her head. She was in no mood to draw attention to herself and just wanted to be warm and comfortable. She’d walk up to the top of King Street and back, she thought. That would be far enough for her first time out.

When she reached the top of Shorrock Fold she had to lean against the wall for a moment to steady herself. Although she’d felt much better whilst she was inside, the shock of the cold air seemed to have robbed her of what strength she’d built up and her legs were dithering like a jelly. Behind her she heard a door slam and turned to see Mr Starkie coming out of his shop. He must have seen her and come to check if she was all right. She stood upright, so’s not to appear ill, and pushed the shawl back from her head on to her shoulders, ready to greet him with a smile.

She saw him hesitate when their eyes met. He looked surprised.

‘Mary.’ He glanced behind him. ‘It’s good to see thee up and about.’

‘Aye. I’m feelin’ better.’ She was about to thank him for making the arrangements for her care but he interrupted her.

‘I’m in a bit of a hurry,’ he said. ‘I’ll see thee later.’ And he was gone. Striding off down King Street as if he had a very important rendezvous.

Mary heard the shop door again and recognised Alice, who purposely averted her gaze as she walked past. She must have been embarrassed to be seen coming out of the pawnbroker’s, thought Mary as she made her way back to the Star. She’d looked well dressed though, not like she was living in poverty.

Mary was glad to get back inside and sit down in the kitchen where she could warm her hands at the fire.

‘Tha looks like tha’s seen a ghost, tha’s that pale,’ remarked Mrs Hall. ‘I’ll make a pot o’ tea.’

‘I saw Mr Starkie.’

‘Oh, aye.’ Mrs Hall paused from counting the spoonfuls of tea into the pot.

‘He said he were rushing off. I didn’t get chance to thank him.’

‘Thank him? What for?’

‘For payin’ for t’ doctor and for my keep.’

‘Aye.’ Mrs Hall grasped a cloth to pick up the hot kettle and poured boiling water on to the tea leaves. ‘Best say nowt to him about that,’ she advised.

‘Why not?’

Mrs Hall didn’t answer for a moment. ‘I’m not at liberty to say. Sworn secret, tha knows,’ she said, touching the side of her nose with a forefinger.