As Mary climbed the hill to Back Mary Anne Street the smell of brewing beer made her feel sicker than ever. Maybe she’d be better after she got the pills, she thought. She might be able to face something to eat when she got back. She’d had no idea that the solution would be so simple. She should have asked Mrs Hall sooner, she thought, then she would have been spared all these weeks of worry.

She walked down the narrow row to the last house and knocked on the door. A middle-aged woman wearing an apron and a cap with a frill opened it and gave her a reassuring smile, guessing why she was there.

‘Come on in,’ she told her. Mary stepped into a tiny parlour and was met by the aroma of drying greenery. The rack above the fire held no washing but was filled from end to end with bunches of grasses and herbs. ‘Take a seat,’ said Ma Critchley.

Mary sat down on the chair by the range and the woman lifted her big brown teapot from the hearth and poured a strong brew into a cup, added plenty of sugar and handed it to her. ‘Now,’ she said. ‘How can I help thee?’

‘Mrs Hall, from the Star, sent me. She said to ask for female pills.’

‘For thyself?’ Mary nodded. ‘Aye. I can give thee some. How long is it since tha bled?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know. A couple of months maybe.’

‘Aye, well, don’t tha fret. My pills’ll see thee right.’

She went to a chest of drawers that stood to the side of the fireplace. It was similar to the one at the Dispensary but smaller. She opened it up with a key that hung from her waist and counted out some small brown pills into a little bottle. ‘That’ll be two and six,’ she said, holding out her hand. Mary took the money from her pocket and handed the coins to Ma Critchley, who tipped them into a little leather bag and then locked the drawers. ‘Take two now,’ she said, tipping them into Mary’s palm. ‘Then one three times a day until thy flow comes on again.’

Mary popped the pills into her mouth one by one and swallowed them down. The sweet tea barely disguised their bitter taste.

‘Tha may get a bit of tummy ache, but don’t let it bother thee. It’ll soon pass,’ Ma Critchley told her.

‘I’m that grateful. I’ve been worried sick.’

‘Don’t tha fret. Tha’s not the first to need ’em,’ she said.

Mary drained the tea and stepped back into the street with the little bottle safe in her pocket. Her steps felt light as she walked back and she held her head high in the sunshine. Everything would be all right now. She’d been silly to worry. It was easily solved.

Mary was at the sink peeling potatoes when the vague ache in her lower back intensified and she gasped and reached out to feel for a stool to sit on.