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 to 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 ye are right. I just know I saw every detail in my head. And with your help, and Benny and Alf from time to time, when my uncle could spare them, we somehow got it finished on time.’ 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.’

‘Ye’re prejudiced, Finn, but thanks anyway.’

‘I like working with ye,’ Finn murmured, walking over to join Blackie, sitting down in the chair opposite him. They 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 canals? 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 a 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 to have expertise … maybe in joinery, brick-making, laying rails and pipes, building bridges and locks. And there’s another thing, Finn, a navvy has to 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 to 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?