Still laughing, Blackie went inside, and headed for a drawer in a chest next to the sink. He found a clean rag and handed it to Finn when he came inside.

“It’s over near the glass,” Blackie said.

Finn nodded, took the offered cloth and crossed the floor. Kneeling down, he carefully rubbed on the soot and, within seconds, the tile was fully white once more. Relief flooded Blackie.

Finn glanced up at his friend. He knew why he was so anxious over every little thing. This job meant a lot. “I bet yer uncle is going ter be … stunned when he sees this kitchen. There ain’t one like it in Upper Armley.” He grinned. “In the whole country even.”

Blackie nodded. “Mebbe yer right. I just know I saw every detail in my head. And with yer help, and Ben and Alfie from time to time, when my uncle could spare them, we somehow made our deadline.” Blackie sat down on a kitchen chair near the sink, and continued, “She loves it, Mrs. Wilson, I mean.”

“A’ course she does. They say ye can’t make a swan out of an ugly duckling, but I think ye have, Blackie.”

“Yer prejudiced, Finn, but thanks anyway.”

“I like working with ye,” Finn murmured, walking over to join Blackie, sitting down on the chair opposite him. The chairs had dust sheets over them, four surrounding the round table near the fireplace.

A silence fell between them; then a moment later Finn said, “What was it like working on the canal? Being a navvy?”

“Tough,” Blackie answered at once. “Very tough. Ye have to master the ‘graft’; that’s a drain-digging spade. That’s vital and, in a sense, it’s become a symbol of the trade. I worked on the canal when I was fifteen, and we lived in huts near the canal. The job has become different over the years. Now navvies work on the railways too, need all kinds of skills. They’re very important.”

“What kind of skills?”

“Well, a navvy has ter have expertise … maybe in joinery, brickmaking, laying rails and pipes, building bridges and locks. And there’s another thing, Finn, a navvy has ter have stamina and great strength. It’s punishing work, cutting out the way for the railways.”

Finn looked crestfallen. “I don’t think I fit the bill, do I?”

Blackie shook his head. “No, ye don’t. I was able ter do it because I’m tall, well built and strong. I also look older than my real age.”

“It’s good money, ain’t it? I heard navvies get paid four shillings per day.… That’s a fortune!”

Blackie smiled. “It is, yes. I did it for six months, and saved a deal of money, but Uncle Pat came and pulled me out.”

“Because of the difficult work?”