‘Does our Hannah know?’ she asked.

‘Aye. She were there. She stayed whilst they waited for t’ doctor to come.’

‘He’s a good man is Dr Barlow. He saved me. And Bessie.’

‘Aye.’ Titus glanced at the child and Jennet wondered if he sometimes wished her daughter hadn’t been saved. The thought made her angry and she poured his tea in silence.

‘Perhaps I’ll go down later,’ she said. ‘To see if there’s owt she needs. I’ve to call at the Feildens’ house anyway with this material for our Hannah.’

After she’d washed up, Jennet left Bessie with Molly next door and walked down to King Street. The gate on the Feildens’ house squeaked when she opened it and she cringed, hating to draw attention to herself. The main path led up to the front door but there was another and she followed it around to the kitchen door, hoping that she could have a quick word with Hannah. She knocked and waited. After a moment a thin man with oversized ears opened it slightly and looked at her as though she was something he’d just trodden in.

‘Can I help you?’ he asked with a clear undertone of contempt.

‘I’m Jennet Eastwood, Hannah’s sister. Is she about?’

‘She isn’t allowed to receive visitors. I’m sure you know that.’

‘Aye, I do. But I brought this parcel for her and was hoping for a quick word.’

The man stared at the parcel. ‘I’ll ask Mrs Feilden if she may receive it,’ he said, taking it from her and holding it as if he were suspicious about its contents.

‘It’s only a length of cotton for a new blouse,’ Jennet told him. ‘And can tha tell Hannah as I’m goin’ to see her friend Mary and I’ll let her know how she is.’

‘I’ll pass the message on,’ he said and without another word closed the door in her face, leaving Jennet standing on the step wondering what it was she’d done to offend him or if he treated everyone like that.

Shaking her head she went back to the gate and tried to close it quietly. She failed. It seemed to squeak more than ever and she thought the butler would have been better employed putting some oil on the hinges rather than treating folk as though they were worthless. She must ask Hannah about him next time she saw her. She hated the thought of her sister being at the beck and call of such an old misery guts.

Mary opened her eyes and wondered if she was still dreaming. She felt as if she was floating. She blinked and then tried to turn over, but the pain in her stomach stopped her and she called out. There was a strange feeling of fullness down below that she couldn’t explain. In fact she was finding it hard to explain anything to herself. She was in bed at the Star, she thought, after a few moments of struggling to clear her fuzzy mind. Everything seemed to hurt. A vision of a man bending over her formed and for a moment she thought it had been Mr Starkie and that he must have hurt her badly this time. But it hadn’t been Mr Starkie. The man had been a stranger and she didn’t think he’d been the one who had hurt her. He’d seemed kind and spoken to her gently – but then you never could tell with men.