‘Come on,’ he urged, probably hoping she wasn’t about to change her mind.

There were some folk already inside the coach – men going to do business at the port – but none that seemed to recognise them. William threw up their bags and then helped her climb to one of the outside seats at the back. He got up beside her and pulled her close to keep her warm and safe.

‘This is it,’ he said as the driver flicked the reins and they rolled out of town. ‘Our new life together.’

Mary looked down at the low-lying mist in the valley as they reached the brow of the hill and turned on to the road to Preston. There was no turning back now, she thought as they passed Dr Barlow’s house and heard the screech of his peacocks as they were roused from their sleep. William held her close and she leaned against him as they bumped over ruts in the road. Now that the time had come, she wasn’t entirely sorry to be leaving. This town had done nothing for her and she would be well rid of it. She regretted leaving her brother behind. John had been adamant that America was not for him, but he’d been grateful for William’s offer of better employment and Mary knew that it was the best she could do for him. It was up to him to make something of himself now. She was sorry to miss Hannah’s wedding too. She hoped her friend wouldn’t be too disappointed when she found her gone, but William had warned her to tell no one in case his parents tried to stop them.

At Preston, William took her into the Old Dog and they ate bacon and eggs, with as much bread and butter as they required and pots of strong, fresh tea. Then they were off again, until, in the early afternoon, she smelled the sea air as they approached Liverpool.

Mary had never seen so many people in one place. If she’d thought that Blackburn had grown into a large town this place seemed a hundred times bigger. The streets were filled with coaches, and wagons laden with all manner of goods. There were people everywhere – gentleman with tall hats, businessmen like the ones who’d travelled with them, families carrying everything they possessed down to the docks on handcarts, and filthy beggars and street urchins with barely enough clothing to cover their scrawny bodies.

William caught their bags as they were thrown from the roof of the coach and then they walked up and down the crowded streets until they found a lodging house that had rooms. William paid for one small room. The owner never questioned that they were husband and wife, and didn’t look as if he cared anyway.

‘Stay here and watch our stuff,’ said William. ‘I’ll go and enquire about boats and get tickets.’

Mary sat on the edge of the bed. It looked none too clean but she hoped they wouldn’t be there for long. From the tiny attic window she could see the masts of the sailing ships in the harbour and she wondered which one might take them to their new life.