She added some more small coals and cinders to the fire under the copper in the washhouse. The washhouse had been the reason they chose this cottage. Even though it was so close to the Blakewater and its bad miasmas, it meant that Jennet could work as a laundress without having to find care for Bessie.

It would take a while for the water to heat up so she went down to the pump to fetch more spring water for the rinses. Once again, the talk there was of illness. A child had died on Clayton Street and the rest of the family were ill. Notices were being put up, said one woman, warning people that this wasn’t ordinary English cholera, but Asiatic cholera – a much more deadly disease.

‘Folk turn blue just before they dies. That’s how they know,’ she told Jennet.

Jennet carried her buckets home with worry snapping at her heels. She didn’t usually heed the talk she heard at the pump or on the market. There were always doom-mongers who enjoyed spreading their tales, but this seemed different. She’d seen men putting up the posters and she wondered about little Kitty from next door.

When she’d finished wringing out the clothes and hung them up to dry she went and knocked on Molly’s door. As soon as her neighbour opened the door she could smell the sickness.

‘Tha can use t’ mangle now,’ she told her. ‘How’s Kitty?’

‘It’s comin’ from both ends,’ said Molly. ‘As soon as I’ve cleaned her up she starts again. I’ve just put another lot to soak and I need to get these dry afore I can make up the bed again.’

She came through Jennet’s parlour with her arms full of the wet sheets and began to put them through the mangle, turning the rollers to squeeze as much moisture as possible out of the washing before it was pegged out.

‘Dost tha think it’s the cholera?’ asked Jennet, hardly daring to say the dreaded word out loud. ‘Has the doctor been?’

‘Not yet. He’s too busy. I’ve just been told to give her a purge and then starve her for a day to see how she is. If she’s no better he’ll come and take a look.’

Jennet nodded. She wanted to say that she’d warned her about the river water, but it was too late for that now. She just hoped that the child got better and that Molly would take more care in the future.

When Titus came in for his dinner she asked him what the posters said.

‘Just common sense really. Telling folk to wash every day and take their rubbish away. But there’s more off ill,’ he said. ‘Might be best if tha walks up to Mr Wraith’s chemist’s shop and gets some tincture of rhubarb and castor oil, just in case.’

‘Aye. And I’ll get plenty of chloride of lime,’ said Jennet. ‘If folks need their bedding done again, it’ll have to be disinfected.’