‘If we kept on walking we’d eventually come to Beverley Road where there are some big houses where ’toffs live,’ Harry commented. ‘Or that’s what I was told by one of ’men at ’mill. Oh, and ’workhouse too!’ He laughed. ‘They like to mix folk up in ’district, seemingly, mebbe so nobody gets above themselves. Rich folk can take note of how others have to live, a reminder that anybody can fall.’

‘I’d like to take that walk,’ Ellen said. ‘But mebbe in ’summer when – oh, but

…’ She remembered there was another child due then. So maybe another time.

The service was about to start and they slipped into the pews at the back. The church was almost full, and many of the parishioners were very elderly. Ellen wondered if this had been their parish church when they were young.

During the first Christmas hymn, Sarah, who had been looking round, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, pointed a finger towards a stained glass window on which was depicted an angel holding up a light. Ellen smiled and silently nodded and thought how observant the child was, and as she too looked about her she saw the marble font and thought that perhaps this would be where, if heaven blessed them with a safe delivery, they would bring their newborn infant to be baptized.

After the service, the vicar stood by the door and shook hands with everyone, wishing them a happy Christmas. Sarah and Mary were included, but not Thomas, who refused to hold out his hand and put both of them behind his back.

‘We’ve got an angel as well,’ Sarah informed the vicar and he nodded benignly. Ellen and Harry were both pleased they had attended the service as they now felt that it really was Christmas Day and they were going to enjoy the rest of it.

Harry lifted Thomas on to his shoulders as they set off on the road home, and as they walked on and the parishioners peeled off in different directions ahead he saw a familiar figure walking in front of them. He called out, ‘Hey, Jim, Jim Smith. Happy Christmas!’

It was the stable lad from Tannerson’s and he had one hand on the shoulder of another much younger lad. He turned, but didn’t make any response until they drew nearer, when he sullenly raised his eyes to look at Harry. His companion glanced at them all, and Mary looked at him and said, ‘That boy.’

‘Happy Christmas, Jim,’ Harry said again. ‘Have you been to church?’

‘Yeh.’

‘Went to get warm,’ the other lad said and received a dig in the ribs from Jim’s elbow.

‘Was your ma pleased with your Christmas box?’ Harry asked. He’d seen Roland Tannerson hand Jim a box of groceries and watched the boy take it to his small space in the stable where presumably he kept his own belongings.