‘It needed saying!’

‘We can’t just leave it to the men. Not when it’s about the childer,’ said another.

‘We should have rights too!’

As the other speakers came forward for their turn, they all thanked Mrs Kitchen for her courage and her words.

‘We are all in this together. Men and women,’ said Dr Bowring. ‘The government needs to hear our concerns. Why should our children starve when they have wasted all their money on fighting in France? Is it because they would rather see us browbeaten than risk us rising up against them to claim our rights as the French did? The sop they have offered us in Parliamentary Reform will not give us justice! Nothing will change until the voices of the working men are heard through the vote!’

More applause and cheering followed each speaker and, as the atmosphere grew livelier and Hannah was surrounded by people who jostled and closed in around her, she felt a moment of fear. She suddenly understood how Titus had been swept away in the Luddite riot the night he was arrested. If a riot followed this meeting she wasn’t sure how she would escape and get back to the safety of the Fieldens’ house. But when the speeches were done people began to drift away, chatting in groups about what they had heard, and the threat of violence dissipated. Hannah thought that it was due to the number of women in the crowd who pulled on their husbands’ sleeves and reminded them that it was time to go home. No matter what had been said, the hooters would still sound at six the following morning and those who had work would have to go to earn what money they could to try to feed their families.

‘Will tha be all right gettin’ back?’ asked Jane as space began to open up around them.

‘Aye. I’ll be fine,’ said Hannah. In truth she was anxious, but she could see that her friend wanted to go off with her husband-to-be and she was loath to say that she would have preferred someone to walk back with her.

She followed the crowd as it dispersed from the field. As she walked, she caught sight of a familiar face and her heart thumped as she recognised James Hindle. For a moment she thought that he had recognised her, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts and almost bumped right into her as she hesitated.

‘Sorry.’

‘Hello!’ she greeted him. She cursed herself for sounding so enthusiastic as he looked at her with a puzzled expression, obviously thinking that he should know her but unable to place her. She felt a red blush flame her face. She wished that she could turn and hurry away, but they were hemmed in by the crowd and she felt compelled to offer some explanation.

‘You’re the schoolmaster on Thunder Alley,’ she said, knowing that it sounded ridiculous. Of course he knew who he was. He didn’t need her to tell him. Why could she never think of anything interesting to say in real life when the characters who peopled her stories were always so articulate?