She reached the door of number twenty-six and knocked, wondering whether to wait or go in. After a moment she pushed the handle down and called, ‘Hello?’

Jane appeared at the bottom of the stairs, her arms full of sheets. They looked filthy. ‘Just let me put these to soak,’ she said.

Hannah walked through the little parlour, admiring the soft furnishings, into the kitchen. The back door was propped open and in the yard Jane plunged the sheets into a dolly tub filled with water. The smell of lye was strong as she poked at them with a long posser.

‘Is he no better?’ asked Hannah.

Jane shook her head. There were tears brimming in her eyes as she glanced upwards towards the bedroom and then drew Hannah close so she could speak in a whisper. ‘He’s keepin’ nowt down.’

‘Has the doctor been?’

‘Aye, briefly. He said to give him nowt to eat or drink until it stops, but he were pleadin’ for a drink. He said he were that thirsty, so I made him a cup of sweet tea, but it all came back.’ She prodded the soiled bedclothes again. ‘I wish we’d spent less on curtains and bought ourselves a copper. It would have been easier to get this lot clean.’

‘Our Jennet has a boiler. I could ask if she’d let tha use it.’

‘Would tha? It would help. I’d ask thee to stay for a cup of tea, but I’m that busy …’ She paused. ‘He’s callin’ again,’ she said as a weak voice floated down from above them.

‘I’ll leave thee to it, then,’ said Hannah. ‘Mrs Feilden sent this,’ she said, putting the basket down on the scrubbed table. ‘It’s leftovers from a do they had last night.’

‘Aye. Thanks for comin’ by and bringin’ it. I wish tha could have visited in better circumstances.’

‘He’ll be better soon,’ Hannah told her, feeling the urge to offer some reassurance, although the truth was that the cholera was taking lives all over town and it seemed there was nothing that could stop it.

She decided to walk down to Water Street before she went back. Cook wouldn’t miss her for half an hour.

Jennet was in the parlour, pressing some starched cotton underwear.

‘That’s gradely stuff,’ said Hannah, admiring the embroidery around the neck of a petticoat.

‘Belongs to a woman up on Richmond Terrace.’

‘I was wonderin’ if tha’d do a favour,’ Hannah said as she put the kettle on to make them a cup of tea whilst Jennet worked.

‘Aye. What is it?’

Hannah told her about Jane.

‘She’s welcome to use it,’ said Jennet, ‘but it’ll need to be tomorrow. I’ve another load to do myself after I’ve finished these.’ She put the cool iron down on the range to reheat and picked up the hot one with a rag to continue. ‘Everyone that has someone poorly is in the same boat,’ she said. ‘I’ve been lettin’ Molly from next door use the mangle, but I can’t let folk use it every day or I’ll not get my own work done. What’s needed is a common place where everyone can go with their soiled bedding to get it boil washed so as it’s properly clean. It’s no good just puttin’ up posters to tell folk to keep themselves clean when there’s no way they can manage it. I’ve seen folk soaking their sheets in the Blakewater and filling it with all sorts of filth and then lazy folk take their water from it rather than walkin’ down to the spring. It’s no wonder illness just keeps on spreading.’