‘How do they work, Uncle Pat?’ Blackie, as usual, had the need to know how everything worked. He was a stickler for details, the more obscure the better. Even on the steamship over, despite the journey being cramped and often terrifying, he’d been figuring out how the ship operated.

‘The trams run on tracks, on large metal wheels. And there are two levels on some trams, downstairs and upstairs. It’s an easy way to get into Leeds from Upper Armley, where we live now. Comfortable they are, too. The great thing is they all come continuously, one after another, with only about fifteen minutes in between.’

He broke off, pointed down the street and said, ‘Here comes one now, Blackie. It’s a good thing we didn’t waste any time getting over here to the stop, didn’t dawdle about.’

Within several seconds, the double-decker tram came to a stop and the two men got on. Blackie wanted to be on the upper deck and scrambled up. Patrick followed more slowly, smiling at the boy’s excitement and enthusiasm.

Blackie was, quite simply, genuinely astonished as the tram started to move, at first gradually, then increasing its speed as it went along the city street.

Blackie turned to his uncle and asked, ‘How do we pay our way?’

‘There’s an inspector. He punches a ticket and gives it to you, then takes the money.’

‘Easy enough,’ Blackie murmured. ‘That was a brilliant idea, whoever thought of it.’

‘Indeed,’ Patrick answered, wondering about that himself for the first time. He’d have to be on his toes and have his wits about him when he was with his nephew. He was a mountain of knowledge already, and filled with questions.

Blackie fell silent, gazing out of the window, his eyes wide, as the tram ploughed through the grand new buildings and busy streets of the city centre, past streets crowded with small houses, past tall factory chimneys, and along to Upper Armley and their destination called Whingate Junction. When they finally got there, about half an hour later, it had grown darker. As Blackie stepped off, there weren’t many buildings around as far as he could see.

‘So much for a great metropolis,’ he said in surprise, glancing at Patrick, a brow lifting. His suitcase was heavy now, banging against his leg.

‘They’re in the city,’ Patrick shot back quickly. ‘Upper Armley is something like a large village, with lots of parks and green fields …’ He broke off, stopped walking and swung to his right. ‘See that big field behind those railings?’

Following his uncle’s gaze, Blackie nodded. ‘I do, even though it’s getting dark now. What field is that then?’

‘It’s a football field and it belongs to West Leeds High School for Boys. That’s the school just down there. The big black stone building.’

Blackie peered ahead. ‘Oh, I see it now.’