Tannerson nodded and lowered his voice. ‘It might surprise you to know that I do understand. I was born in Ireland and when I was a young child I worked in a cotton mill, but I was sacked when I grew older for it was cheaper for the mill owners to employ younger children. Then my family moved to a country district where my father had relatives and he thought there’d be work for us. There wasn’t. Many people were leaving Ireland to travel to England or America to escape starvation. You’ll perhaps have heard of the potato famine? The Great Famine it was called in Ireland, when the only food available to the masses was green potatoes? But the potatoes were diseased and the blight was poisonous and a million people died of starvation. ’

Ellen shook her head; she hadn’t, but Lizzie piped up. ‘Yes, I’ve heard of it.’

‘Well, that was when I decided to leave,’ he said, including her in the conversation. ‘It was ’best part of twenty years ago; my two brothers and I had struggled to find work and I was a young man eager to see the world and earn a better living. My father cursed the English and said the trouble we were in was their fault and to some extent he was right; but when my sister died in childbirth and I told him I was leaving to come to England to find work, he cursed me too and said he never wanted to see my face again.’

He stopped as if he’d said too much. ‘And – did you ever go back?’ Ellen asked quietly.

‘No, I did not,’ he replied. ‘When I found work I sent money home to my brothers, but then Dada discovered it and sent it back, saying they didn’t need my dirty English money.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Ellen said softly. ‘I hope you found happiness eventually?’

‘Sure I did.’ He smiled, and she heard the soft lilt of his accent coming through. ‘I did anything I could to earn a crust and eventually went to work at Tannerson’s mill and met the lovely woman who became my wife.’

Ellen gazed at him. She could imagine him as a charmer when he was a young man. Though his hair had streaks of grey, it was predominantly black and curly and his eyes were a greeny blue. He would have broken a few hearts, she thought. And yet, she wondered, how had he become a mill owner and why was he visiting her today?

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Tannerson drank his coffee slowly; he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave even though he’d said he had paperwork to attend to. He spoke generally about the mill and said he was meeting surveyors the next day who would study whether the mill building was safe to use again or if it should be pulled down and rebuilt.