‘There were no need to have it burned!’ fumed Hannah. She hadn’t forgiven the woman and she never would, so she might as well speak her mind. ‘I’m sure it must be wrong to burn other folk’s stuff, if not in the eyes of the magistrate then in the eyes of God!’

‘That’s enough!’ Mrs Feilden stood up and Hannah could see that she was furious. ‘Pack your belongings and go – immediately! Horrocks!’ she called and Hannah watched as the butler came to the door and looked from one to the other of them as they stood, both red-faced, glaring at one another. ‘Hannah is dismissed,’ she told him. ‘Go with her to her room and wait whilst she packs her things and then accompany her to the back door.’

She sat down at her desk again and made a pretence of being busy with her papers. Hannah looked at Horrocks. His expression remained unchanged, so she had no idea what he was thinking.

‘I’m supposed to be helping Cook with the dinner,’ she said.

‘She’ll manage. Go and get your things,’ he said, and Hannah was left with no choice other than to precede him up the back stairs where he stood in her doorway and watched as she packed her belongings haphazardly into her bag.

‘And Horrocks!’ called Mrs Feilden from the lower landing. ‘Make sure she leaves her uniform.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘At least turn thy back!’ she hissed at him before she pulled off the dress, balled it up and flung it on to the floor. She pulled one of her own back out of the bag and stepped into it, fastened it quickly and put on her little jacket and bonnet. For a moment she stared at the floorboard where her paper and pencils were hidden. She didn’t want to leave them, but decided that she wouldn’t demean herself by scrabbling under the floor for them and proving that she had been dishonest after all. So, bag in hand, and with her head held high, she followed Horrocks back down to the kitchen.

‘Whatever’s happened?’ asked Cook.

‘I’ve to go,’ she said as Horrocks opened the door and waited for her to step through.

‘Why? What’s she done?’ she heard Cook ask just before the door closed behind her for the last time.

The gate squeaked on her way out. Hannah didn’t bother to close it behind her, but left it swinging. She stood for a moment on King Street until the worst of the tears of anger, frustration and disappointment passed; then, with no other option, she began to walk towards Water Street.

Jennet was turning some sheets through the mangle in the back yard when she heard the front door open and close.

‘Who is it?’ she called. ‘I’m out here.’ She glanced up from her work and saw her sister standing in the back doorway, clutching her bag in her hand. ‘Hannah! What’s happened?’

‘I’ve been sacked.’

‘What’s tha done?’