Emma seemed uncomprehending. She looked from brother to brother, at their distressed faces and tear-filled eyes.

“Our dad’s dead,” Frank told her, with his usual childlike bluntness. His voice was leaden with sorrow. “He died five days after you left, last August.”

“Dead,” whispered Emma, choking back a sob. “He can’t be dead. It’s not possible. I would have known if he had died. I would have known inside. In my heart. I just know I would.” And as she uttered these words, she realized from their grim expressions that it was true.

She stared into space and finally managed to ask, “How did he die?” Her voice was drained.

“There was an accident,” Winston said. “We didn’t know where to find you, Emma. We kept thinking you’d be back in a few days.…”

Emma was silent. She had no excuses. A sick dismay lodged in her stomach, and guilt mingled with her grief, which was absolute. “What kind of accident?” she whispered.

“Well, ye see, Emma, that Saturday ye left, there was a fire at the mill and our dad got burned. And he breathed a lot of smoke. He survived, but our aunty Lily said he didn’t want to live anymore, he wanted to join our mam. He died peacefully in his sleep that night.”

Emma said, with a strangled sob, “Did he understand that I hadn’t returned from Bradford, and that’s why I wasn’t there, Winston?”

Her brother nodded. “Yes, and he wasn’t upset, Emma. He said he didn’t have to see you, because you were locked in his heart forever.”

Emma closed her burning eyes and leaned back against the chair. “Was anyone else injured?” she asked eventually.

“No, only our dad,” Frank told her. “Our dad was crossing the yard and spotted Master Edwin going inter the warehouse. Our dad ran after him, warning him it was ever so dangerous. A blazing bale was falling from the gantry, so our dad threw himself on top of Master Edwin, ter protect him. He saved Master Edwin’s life, and with selfless courage, so the Squire said.”

Emma went icy cold all over. “My father saved Edwin Fairley’s life!” she cried with such ferocity that even Winston was brought up sharply, aghast at her tone. “He died to save a Fairley! My father sacrificed himself for one of them!” She spat out the words venomously, and a sick, fulminating fury rose up in her.

And so it began, something Blackie had never seen in his life ever before. The most relentless pursuit of money ever embarked upon, the most grinding and merciless work schedule ever conceived and willingly undertaken by a seventeen-year-old girl.