‘Margaret Eastwood, your mother’s here!’

Peggy roused herself. She was white and Jennet could see that she’d been crying.

‘I’ll take her home,’ she said. She took off her shawl and wrapped it around Peggy, who was shivering. ‘I’ll keep her off until she’s better,’ she said to the schoolteacher.

‘It may just be an upset,’ said Miss Parkinson. ‘I hope she’ll be better soon. She’s doing very well and it would be a shame if she fell behind.’ She didn’t mention cholera either, but Jennet saw the fear in her eyes just the same. ‘Perhaps you should get some limewash,’ she suggested. ‘Just in case.’

Jennet took Peggy straight down King Street to the Dispensary. It wasn’t open when they arrived, but Jennet thought Peggy would never make it to Water Street and back again, and she wanted Dr Scaife to see her, so they sat down on the step to wait. At least they were first in the queue.

‘Don’t think the worst,’ the doctor told her when he’d examined Peggy. ‘She’s grown into a strong girl and many have recovered well. And it may be something else. Children are prone to sickness.’ He got up and went to his drawers where he measured out a quantity of white powder into a small brown bottle. ‘Give her a gram of this twice a day with no more than half a teaspoonful of water. Apart from that give no food or liquid at all. If the bowels continue to purge than give it every half an hour until the secretions stop. Keep her in bed. Keep her warm and away from draughts. If she’s no better in forty-eight hours then bring her back and I’ll take some blood which may help to relieve any cramps.’

‘Thank you, doctor,’ said Jennet. She put the bottle in her pocket and found a shilling to pay, wondering what she would use to buy food for the rest of the week.

Peggy was sick again when they got outside, and Jennet was only thankful that she hadn’t thrown up over the doctor. There was nothing she could do about the mess, so she left it for the sun and air to dry and took Peggy home to Water Street where she undressed her and tucked her into bed before dosing her with the medicine.

‘How is she?’ asked Molly when she came round with Bessie.

‘She’s gone off to sleep for a bit. Doctor said it might just be an upset.’ Jennet clung to the words like a talisman.

‘Aye. That’s what they always say,’ replied Molly. ‘Give us a shout if there’s anything we can do.’

‘Aye. Thanks,’ she said.

Her neighbour went out and Jennet put the kettle on to boil to make a drink of tea. Strong and sweet for herself, with just a dash of milk, and milky for Bessie who stood and looked at her in silence, knowing something was very wrong but not being able to comprehend it.