‘Mary! What’s tha doin’ here?’

‘I wanted to see thee, to make sure tha were all right.’ She saw that he still hadn’t got any new clothes. His bony wrists protruded from the ends of his frayed sleeves as he reached to get her a stool to sit on.

‘I don’t need to be here this afternoon,’ he said, ‘but it’s more peaceful than being at home and I like the work.’

‘Tha were always fond of animals.’

‘Aye. I like the horses well enough.’

‘But it’s not the job tha were hopin’ for,’ said Mary as she watched him dip the rag into the tin of leather polish and rub the noseband of the bridle. ‘I’ve brought thee another shilling,’ she said, taking two sixpences from her purse and holding them out to him. They were coins that Mr Starkie had given her that she’d kept from Mrs Hall. ‘Go to the pawnbroker’s shop on Shorrock Fold,’ she said, ‘and tell them as Mary sent thee. They’ll find thee a jacket and trousers to fit, and when I’ve some more money I’ll get a length of flannel off the market to sew thee a new shirt.’

‘I don’t want thy money, Mary.’

‘But look at thee! Tha can’t go around like that. Not when the winter comes.’ He shrugged and continued to polish the bridle. ‘Take it!’ she insisted and put the coins down on the table. After a moment he reached for them and slipped them into his pocket.

‘I’m grateful,’ he said.

‘And don’t say a word to Mam and Dad. Don’t let them have any of it.’

‘But they’re bound to comment when I go home in new things.’

‘Tell ’em as tha were given ’em at work.’

‘They’ll not believe me.’

‘That doesn’t matter.’

‘They’ll say I’ve been thieving again. Dad said he’d put me out if I stole owt again.’

Mary shook her head. ‘Don’t let him bully thee,’ she told him. ‘Anyway, it would be better if tha could find somewhere else to live.’

‘Is that why tha left?’ he asked. ‘Because he were bullyin’ thee? I never saw it. He seemed to be more fond of thee than the rest of us.’

‘Aye. It seemed that way,’ she replied. ‘But it wasn’t a good sort of fondness. I had to get away and live my own life.’

He nodded and she knew that he had no inkling of what she was talking about and that she could never tell him. He wasn’t much more than a child himself, even though he was on the verge of manhood. She hoped he’d turn out to be a better man than their father. It was her father that should have been locked up, she thought, not her little brother.

Mary looked up as the man with the wheelbarrow came in.

‘I didn’t know tha had a sweetheart, Johnnie!’

‘I’m his sister.’

‘Aye. That’s what they all say.’ He winked at her. ‘I’ve seen thee at the Star,’ he said.