‘Mrs Hall’s given her the night off.’

‘Really? Is that true, Nellie?’ he called across the noisy parlour. ‘No Alice tonight?’

‘She’s havin’ a little rest.’

‘She’s not poorly, is she?’ He sounded concerned. ‘There’s been some posters going up about avoiding the cholera.’

‘There’s no sickness here,’ said Mrs Hall, putting the dish down in front of him. ‘I just thought tha might welcome a bit of a change.’

‘Really?’ He glanced at Mary and then back at Mrs Hall. ‘Really?’

‘Aye. Mary likes it here, so she’s decided to stop on. I thought tha might like to spend some time with her rather than Alice.’

Mrs Hall went back to the kitchen and Mary stood, staring down at Mr Starkie, ignoring all the other customers who were trying to catch her eye to get a refill.

‘Well, this is a turn-up,’ he said. ‘I thought tha were too hoity-toity to be nice to a chap. What’s changed thy mind?’

Mary shrugged. ‘Needs must,’ she told him.

He took a drink of his beer, put it back on the table and picked up the spoon to stir the hotpot. ‘Tha doesn’t sound as if tha’s so keen.’ Mary didn’t reply and he glanced up at her. ‘Sit thee down,’ he said, pulling out a stool for her. ‘Tell me a bit about thyself.’

‘I’ve got other customers to serve.’

‘Nell has it in hand,’ he said. ‘Sit down.’

Mary perched on the stool and watched as he blew on a portion of the hotpot before putting it in his mouth. ‘Get thyself a beer. Charge it to me,’ he told her. Mary poured the drink and took a couple of gulps, feeling the warmth spread through her, down to her toes. She took another mouthful. It was bitter and she didn’t really like the taste, but she hoped it would help her to feel more obliging.

‘So what were tha doin’ afore tha came here? I heard tha worked for Sudell.’

‘Aye. It’s true. I were a maid up at Woodfold but they turned us out.’

‘Did tha not want to be a maid any more?’

‘I did, but Mr Sudell never gave me a character. No one’ll take me on without one. I tried to get my job back at the mill, but they’re not takin’ on.’

‘Tha doesn’t want to be workin’ at a loom for fourteen hours a day, does tha?’ he asked. He put the spoon down in the dish and looked at her, holding her gaze. ‘I can help thee,’ he told her. ‘Tha can have nicer clothes than those.’ He nodded towards her plain blouse and skirt. ‘I’m sure tha’d like a pretty calico dress to wear in this warm weather, and a bonnet wi’ ribbons to go with it. I could get them things for thee,’ he offered. She didn’t answer. He drained his beer and glanced around. ‘It’s noisy in here,’ he said. ‘I can barely hear myself think and I’m strugglin’ to hear thee an’ all, with thy soft little voice. What say we go upstairs? I’d like to get to know thee better.’