Ellen shook her head. She could barely trust herself to speak. ‘Neither. I know little about him,’ she answered in a small, tight voice. ‘His employer, Mr Tannerson, will know more.’ She took a quavering breath. ‘He was injured in ’same accident as my husband’ – she gestured to where Harry was beginning to stir – ‘and I understood that he was an orphan; that’s why I sat with him.’

‘That was a great kindness,’ Matron observed.

Ellen stared straight ahead. ‘He thought I was his mother,’ she whispered. ‘I hope it brought him comfort.’

‘Ah!’ A look of understanding showed on Matron’s face. ‘That was indeed a special kindness.’ She paused. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Mrs …?’

‘Randell,’ Ellen murmured. ‘Yes, I would, please.’

Matron touched her briefly on the shoulder. ‘I’ll have one sent to you; and to Mr Randell too. He’ll be upset about the boy under the circumstances.’

Ellen nodded. He would. ‘Thank you, Matron,’ she said, and her voice was wobbly. ‘Thank you very much.’

Harry seemed surprised to see her when she went to his bedside, and put up his arms to bring her close and kiss her cheek. ‘I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.’

‘Filip brought me.’ She pulled up a chair and sat down and hoped that the tea would have sugar in it; she felt decidedly shaky. ‘He was going to a meeting for Mr Tannerson and he’d lent him a trap.’

‘Who lent who a trap?’

‘Mr Tannerson lent Filip a trap so that he could go to ’meeting.’ She sought to clear her head. ‘It was a discussion about ’plans for ’mill, so he, Filip, said he’d drop me off. He’s onny across ’road in Albion Street. I’ll have to walk back, though, cos he doesn’t know how long he’ll be.’

Harry gazed at her. ‘Are you tired, Ellen? You look worn out. You’re overdoing things, aren’t you? You don’t need to come traipsing over here to see me, you know; I’m going to be all right now, so don’t worry yourself. I think I’ll be allowed out afore long.’

He glanced to the next bed where he could hear the murmur of voices behind the screen. ‘Not so sure about young Jim,’ he whispered. ‘He’s not doing well.’

Ellen placed her hands on the bed and Harry put his over them. The bandages had been removed and the skin had pink and white patches, and dark leathery ones too. How could she tell him that a young life had been lost, or even imagine the life he might have had if he’d lived?

‘Harry,’ she said simply, ‘I’m sorry to tell you that Jim died not five minutes since. He’s at peace now.’

After a moment, Harry’s lips formed a question. ‘Was he alone? I’d have sat with him.’