There were many other women hurrying in front of them, some with young children and babies, and she thought that that could have been her if it hadn’t been for Edyta and Filip. How kind they were. She drew in a laboured breath. I know of no one else I could have asked to keep the children safe; I would have had to take them with me to see … She took another fearful breath. To see heaven knows what.

They could smell the pungent scent of burning grain and see the plumes of smoke, and the clouds of dust particles drifting down and settling on the ground and on their clothes.

‘Did you hear it?’ she asked Filip, clinging to his supportive arm. ‘The explosion?’

‘Yes. I knew it was one of the mills. I have heard that kind of blast before and went out on to the river bank to see where it was coming from. It might not be Tannerson’s mill. There are many in the vicinity.’

‘Edyta said that it was. On her way – to work. She wasn’t – allowed past. I must slow down for a minute, Filip,’ she panted. He walked so fast she couldn’t keep up. ‘I’ve got a stitch.’

‘What?’ He looked puzzled. ‘You have a stitch?’

She bent over. ‘Ow! Yes, a pain in my side.’ She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. ‘We call it – a stitch.’

‘Ah!’ He took her arm again. ‘I am sorry. I forget you are with child. You must lean on me. Not so far to go now. Not far at all.’

But she felt as if it were taking for ever; the longest journey of her life. But there in front of them was a huge crowd of people; men, women and children, and other men holding hands, making a cordon to keep the crowds at bay.

‘They won’t let us through,’ she said hoarsely and put the edge of her shawl over her mouth lest she should choke on the clogging smoke.

He led her to the edge of the crowd close to a factory wall. ‘Wait here,’ he said. ‘They will let me through.’

And they did. He was head and shoulders taller than anyone else, and with his broad shoulders and dark beard he struck a commanding figure as he strode towards the cordon of men and said a few words and they parted to let him through. In the yard relays of men were throwing buckets of water from the river into the burning mill. He glanced at their blackened faces. Harry wasn’t amongst them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

When Filip returned he found Ellen sitting on the ground; she had felt faint and slid down to save herself from falling.

‘Come,’ he said. ‘We must go,’ and putting his hands beneath her armpits he lifted her to her feet.

‘Harry?’ she whispered. ‘Is he all right?’