‘It’s given by ’local parish,’ Lizzie explained. ‘And most folk only apply when they’re at rock bottom. They’re sometimes given milk and bread if there are any children, and sometimes money for ’rent. It’s demeaning.’ Her mouth curled. ‘But not as bad as going into ’workhouse, I suppose. I’d sooner jump into ’river as do that.’

‘No!’ Filip said. ‘Never!’ He pushed open the gate to let them out, then closed it behind him. ‘It is a sin to take a life. There is always hope. But this relief is perhaps the same as we were given when we first arrived here, I think. We were very grateful for it.’

‘Folk get desperate sometimes, Lizzie,’ Ellen said, and thought that her sister must have been through a very difficult time to say such a thing. ‘Oh!’ She suddenly remembered what she was going to say to Mr Tannerson. ‘I forgot to ask if I might exercise Mr Tannerson’s horses.’ She sighed. ‘Never mind. I’ll ask him tomorrow when he calls.’

‘He comes tomorrow?’ Filip said. ‘Why is that?’

Ellen shook her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Dr Lucan mentioned he had something to discuss.’

‘You’ve been singled out, Ellen,’ Lizzie said comfortingly. ‘Things are looking up.’

Anna and the children met them again on the way back to Ellen’s room; Filip told them that Tannerson had asked him questions about putting in a new crushing plant. Filip had shown him plans of other systems that he had worked on in his home country and Tannerson was sufficiently impressed to suggest that they might agree on a contract, asking him if he would be willing to discuss the proposal with other engineers and mechanics, in which case he would put him at the head of a proposed new system.

Filip was ecstatic to think that at last he would be in worthwhile employment. He picked up Thomas and lifted him on to his shoulders, and then Aron scrambled up his father’s back like a young monkey, and clung on to Thomas while Filip carried the two of them.

‘One day soon I will have my own company,’ he crowed. ‘I will employ men. Everyone will want my services!’

He began to sing in a language that the English women didn’t understand, but Anna began to hum too; Filip’s voice was a deep bass and he began to dance sidesteps in time to the song, making his fingers move as if he were playing an accordion, much to the children’s delight. The women laughed, and then another familiar voice broke in from behind them: ‘Hej, Polski.’ Dozens of women were appearing from the direction of the cotton mill and one of them was Edyta, who joined in the melody, putting her hands on her hips and following Filip in the dance.

‘Why are you all leaving work?’ Ellen asked her.