They were finished by half past four, and as Harry leaned the brush against a wall Ellison said they could go home, that there was no need to stay longer. He had an oil lamp in his hand and was ready to lock and bolt the doors and gates after everyone. ‘Smith,’ he bellowed. ‘Where are you?’

‘Here sir.’ Jim Smith appeared from the stables. Harry noticed that the boy’s manner with Ellison wasn’t his usual grumpy one.

‘Now then,’ Ellison said. ‘Am I to lock you in or have you got an engagement wi’ a young lady?’

The boy glanced at the wide open gates. Then he gave a weak grin. ‘I might have, Mr Ellison. Shall I lock ’gates after you?’

It sounded to Harry as if the exchange was part of a ritual that they had been through before, but he turned away and went to fetch his coat from where he had left it that morning. He glanced back and saw Ellison give Smith a set of keys and padlocks, putting another set in his pocket. As he walked away in the direction of home he was concerned that Jim Smith appeared to live permanently on the mill premises, and that Ellison knew it.

On Saturday morning, the engineers routinely checked the drive belts and machinery whilst other men prepared for cleaning and drying, before the pressing operation started on Monday morning.

They obviously knew what they were doing, and Harry was relieved to see their efficiency. But it was extremely hot inside the mill, so he sought out Ellison. ‘There’s a smell of heat,’ he said. ‘There’s no chance of firing, is there?’

Ellison stared at him. ‘What ’you talking about?’

‘It’s just that I’ve known stacks to fire if they’re not turned, and grain heaps can combust.’

‘Aye, we know about internal combustion; what ’you trying to say, lad?’ Ellison had a sneer on his face as much as to ask What do you know, country boy? ‘We’ve got ventilation and air ducts. We’ve been doing this for a long time – some of us.’

Harry gave a shrug. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Onny asking!’ But, he silently considered, familiarity breeds contempt, and although the men working on the machines knew what they were doing, it only needed one careless act to bring disaster and Ellison, flexing his muscles of authority, just might overlook something. They were working with volatile products, and rape seed in particular had a high oil content.

There wasn’t a great deal for Harry to do and he asked Ellison if he might take the horses out to give them some exercise. ‘I don’t know where young Smith is,’ he said. ‘I was going to ask him if they’d been out over Christmas.’

Ellison looked warily at him. ‘He’s on another job at ’minute,’ he said. ‘Know about hosses, do you?’