‘Please, step inside a moment. I’ll tell Mrs Pickering that you’re here.’

Jennet wiped her feet on the doormat and stood in the hall. The black and white tiled floor was identical to that in Mrs Whittaker’s house and she wondered if the same workman had laid it.

‘Mrs Eastwood,’ said a voice. Mrs Pickering was a middle-aged lady whose husband ran a carting business. Jennet knew that she was no better than herself and had begun her life in one of the back streets, but since the Pickerings had come into money she considered herself to be a cut above her former acquaintances. ‘You’re very late returning my laundry.’

‘I know. I’m sorry, Mrs Pickering. I had an accident with thy blouse,’ confessed Jennet. ‘I’ve had to replace it with a new one. But I’m sure tha’ll find it’s even better than the first.’

Mrs Pickering sniffed; then she took the parcel and tore off the wrapping. She shook out the blouse and held it up to the light to examine it carefully.

‘The embroidery is different,’ she complained.

‘It’s better,’ Jennet told her. ‘No one can match our Hannah’s workmanship when it comes to stitching. Look how neat the seams are. The old one wasn’t anywhere near as well made.’

Mrs Pickering sniffed again. ‘I’m not sure my seamstress would be very pleased to hear you say that.’

‘I didn’t mean any disrespect,’ said Jennet, realising that the woman was determined to find fault with her.

‘I suppose it will have to do,’ said Mrs Pickering as she folded it up and handed it to the maid. ‘Hannah’s your sister, isn’t she?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Works at the Feildens’ house on King Street?’

‘Aye, she does.’

‘I heard she worked for the Sudells before?’

‘Aye. Yes. She’s very experienced,’ said Jennet, wondering what Mrs Pickering was leading up to. Her tone didn’t strike her as being that associated with polite conversation.

‘Sally here worked for the Sudells, didn’t you?’ she said to the maid.

‘That’s right, Mrs Pickering.’

‘Did you know a Hannah who worked there?’

‘Hannah Chadwick? Yes. She was one of the parlour maids.’

‘Sally came to us on the recommendation of a friend,’ said Mrs Pickering. ‘She was struggling to find another post because Mr Sudell neglected to write characters for the staff he left behind. Isn’t that so, Sally?’

‘That’s right, Mrs Pickering.’ The girl’s gaze flicked from her employer to Jennet and back again.

‘So your sister did well to get a position at the Feildens’ house. I know Mrs Feilden is very particular about her staff.’

Jennet didn’t reply. She knew that the woman had a point. Mary had said the same thing. And if Mrs Feilden had insisted on a character, which was what the woman was implying, then where had Hannah’s come from?

‘She did do well,’ Jennet told Mrs Pickering, hoping that her anxiety didn’t show. ‘She’s very competent.’

‘Pity the same can’t be said for you,’ remarked Mrs Pickering, seeing her chance to be even more obnoxious. ‘I think it goes without saying that I will employ another laundress in the future and I won’t be giving you any recommendations.’