‘And you brought that child comfort,’ he answered. ‘For a child is what Jim still is, and heaven only knows what’s in front of him now. He’ll probably be sent to the workhouse hospital, for he won’t be able to live a normal life again.’

Ellen, feeling sad, nodded and climbed down from the trap. She thanked Tannerson warmly for taking her to see the cottage, and Harry, and went into the house.

The following morning Ellen helped Lizzie button up her own brown dress, and then brushed her hair and pinned it up in a neat twist; Lizzie had curly hair and a few wisps fell across her forehead.

‘There, you look lovely,’ Ellen said generously. ‘The dress suits you; you look very businesslike. I’d give it to you if I had another but I haven’t, so I can’t.’

Lizzie gave her a smacking kiss on her cheek. ‘I’ll buy you a new one when I get my first wage packet.’

Ellen laughed. ‘No you won’t,’ she said. ‘You’ll pay ’rent first. That’s ’first priority. Off you go, don’t be late. Good luck,’ she added.

It’s what we all need, she thought as she gave the children their breakfast and made herself another cup of tea. She wondered about Jim Smith and whether he would survive; if he did he would be badly scarred, that was for sure. Suddenly she recalled the boy who had been with him on Christmas Day, the one who had said that they hadn’t got a mother: Benny, who had died in the fire. And what was it that Mary had said that day? She searched back in her mind. That boy, she remembered. What had she meant?

She cleared away the breakfast dishes and washed them in the sink with the remaining hot water from the kettle, which she refilled and put back on the fire to heat again before going to the window to draw back the curtains to let in some light.

Instantly she remembered. He had been leaning on the wall the day they arrived, watching them unpack the wagon, and had asked them … what?

Sarah came and stood beside her and stared out of the window too. ‘That boy,’ she piped. ‘He said he wouldn’t play with lasses. Why wouldn’t he? We know how to play boys’ games.’

‘I don’t know.’ Ellen was startled. How did Sarah guess what she was thinking? ‘But he’s gone away now.’

Sarah turned away from the window. ‘Yes, I know,’ she said sadly. ‘And we would have played with him.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Tannerson was concluding a discussion with Henry Thorpe when through the office window, placed strategically opposite his desk so that he had a full view of the yard below, he saw Mrs Robson enter the mill gates and head towards the office stairs.