Hannah sat down at the table and reached for a piece of the toast. It was unthinkable. This was her home now. She loved this place. She’d thought that leaving her job in the mill in Blackburn and coming to work for the Sudells was the best decision she’d ever made. The air was clear up here on the hill, away from the smog and the smoke and the grime. She’d had no intention of ever going back, but now she wondered what other option there was.

Mary went back to scrambling the eggs. ‘We may as well eat these,’ she said. ‘Who knows when we’ll get another meal? There’s bacon too. Get it on to fry.’

‘How long dost tha think we have before they throw us out?’ Hannah asked her friend. They’d gone to sit in the drawing room to pretend that they were gentry.

‘Not long,’ said Mary from her cushioned seat at the window. She nodded her head to where a cloud of dust in the distance betrayed the approach of horses up the long winding driveway. Hannah groaned. She was enjoying lying full length on the blue damask couch and she’d hoped that they would have longer before they were forced to leave.

‘It’s all right for thee,’ complained Mary. ‘Thy parents or sister will take thee back, but there’s no way I’m going back home. I’d rather starve.’

‘It won’t come to that. Lots of the mill owners are building themselves big houses. They must need staff.’

‘I doubt we’d stand much of a chance without a character reference. We were lucky here,’ Mary reminded her. ‘But things have changed. No one gets taken on now without a letter from their former employer. And it doesn’t look like we’ll be getting one.’

‘Or the wages we’re owed,’ said Hannah as she reluctantly swung her feet to the floor and bent to lace her boots. The horses had arrived outside the main door and men were surveying the front of the house. It seemed that they would barely have time to pack their belongings before the house was secured and they were sent on their way.

Half an hour later Hannah and Mary were walking down the long drive towards the road with their bags in their hands. It didn’t seem that long since they’d walked up it with such high hopes. Hannah had been so happy. She’d been overjoyed when the Sudells had agreed to employ her as a maid at their new country house, and after she’d been promoted from a scullery maid to a parlour maid she and Mary had talked excitedly about the possibility of becoming a lady’s maid, with all the excitement and glamour of looking after Mr Sudell’s daughters, being responsible for their lovely dresses, doing their hair, hearing their secrets and maybe even meeting someone special. Hannah longed to meet someone special. She’d seen such handsome men arriving at the Sudells’ door in their carriages for visits and parties. Men who wore silk cravats, and whose hands were soft and clean and who looked as though they’d never had to weave a length of cloth in their lives. How she’d wished that one of them would notice her as she crept about the house with her dustpan and brush. She knew that it was silly and that she ought to resent those who didn’t have to do a turn to earn their living. She knew she should set her cap at some hardworking lad, but it didn’t hurt to dream, she told herself. After a long day wasn’t she allowed at least a few minutes of imagining what her life could be like before she fell into an exhausted sleep?