‘I’ll go up, sir.’ Harry was younger than his employer and he thought probably fitter, for Tannerson was of a heavier build, and he was halfway up before the other man could agree or not. Then he cursed himself for not bringing up a hammer or a saw, for the frames were fastened from the inside. He’d have to use his fist, and as he looked below to shout down to Tannerson to fetch a hammer, he saw a figure at the mill doors with a key in the lock and a flickering oil lamp in his hand.

‘No!’ he bellowed. ‘Don’t go in!’

Jim Smith didn’t hear, or chose not to, and turned the key to open the door. Harry felt and smelt the surge of arid heat rising from the open doors, and before he could take even one step down the ladder the thundering, deafening, explosive BOOM blew off the mill roof, doors and vents, and he was propelled off the ladder, across the yard and into the river below.

Ellen hadn’t stayed in bed as Harry had urged her to, but had got up to prepare the porridge and was stirring it over the fire when she heard the explosion. The window rattled, the cups hanging from the hooks below the mantelpiece shook and soot came down the chimney, coating the porridge with grime and brick dust and smothering the flames of the fire.

She was becoming used to the thump and throb of machinery echoing around the area, as she was to the pungent smells of industry; it was a constant in the lives of those who lived close by the mills and factories, but now she straightened up and stood, pensive and a little afraid. The sound she had heard wasn’t the usual beat of machines starting up for the first shift of the day; this, she thought anxiously, was trouble.

She crossed to the window and drew back the curtain to peer out. A woman had opened the door of the house opposite and was looking down the street; then other women, some still in their nightrobes, opened doors too, and within minutes came the clatter of horses’ hooves and the rumble of wagons and carts being driven swiftly towards the source of the blast to offer what help they could.

Ellen felt sick to her bones. It was impossible to judge where the explosion had been. What should she do? Wait for bad news? Would Harry run home to tell her he was safe, or would he be too busy helping others? That would be more likely. If anyone was in trouble, he would be there.

I’ll wait, she thought, sitting abruptly on the bed, for what else can I do? I can hardly get the children dressed and take them down there if there’s a major fire.