She shook her head. She knew no more than he did. Why was Harry on a ladder, she wondered. She turned to look at him. He was covered to his throat by a sheet and his right cheek was hidden under white flannel. Tears flushed her eyes and ran down her face; she wanted to put her arms round him and hold him close, but she knew she couldn’t; he must rest and recover. But she put her hand on the bed, to be close to him.

‘I happened to be in the vicinity of the mill,’ the doctor was saying. ‘I heard the explosion. Your husband had just been fished out of the water when I arrived. He is a very lucky man.’ He looked at the next bed; the other doctor had moved on. ‘We have another patient, a very young man who was also caught in the explosion. Would you know him, by any chance?’

She shook her head. ‘Harry hasn’t worked there very long. We’re new to Hull. The only people we know are immigrants, Polish and Prussian.’

‘You’re from Holderness?’ he asked. ‘I can hear your accent.’

‘Yes!’ she said. ‘Are you too, doctor? I was told there was a Holderness doctor living in Hull.’

‘Yes, I am,’ he said, ‘as my wife is too.’ He fished in his jacket pocket beneath his white coat and brought out a card. ‘Dr Lucan,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘When you get your husband home, let me know and I’ll come to see him.’

He must have seen the doubt on her face. They didn’t have money for doctors.

‘Please do,’ he said. ‘There will be no charge for a visit.’

Gratefully, she thanked him and said that she would.

The doctor moved on to other patients and Ellen sat by Harry’s side. He was oblivious of her presence. She wanted to lift the sheet to see if his burns were bad, but didn’t dare. The young nurse brought her a cup of sweet tea and when she handed it to Ellen she put her finger to her lips. Ellen drank it appreciatively and then thought of Filip waiting outside and knew that they must get back home. It was a long walk and she hoped that Filip would remember the way.

She rose from the seat and put the empty cup and saucer on it, touched her lips with her fingertips and blew a kiss to Harry, and turned away. When he woke, he wouldn’t know that she had been to see him. She fished in her pocket for a clean handkerchief and found one that she had used only for wiping away her tears; she felt beneath the sheet where she thought his hands would be and felt his bandaged fingers and put the handkerchief between them.

‘I love you, Harry,’ she whispered. ‘Please get well soon. We want you home again.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT