Ellen waved him off from the door and saw that there were crowds of people, men and women, tramping down the street on their way to work, but it was the children she noticed most. They were so thin and puny-looking, Ellen was convinced some of them had never had a decent meal in their lives. Young girls huddled beneath thin shawls with their bare feet in wooden clogs; the boys wore flat caps and had their collars turned up and their hands tucked into the pockets of cut-down threadbare coats. One child stood in the doorway opposite and watched everyone going by. She thought he might be too young to work yet, and as she watched him she realized it was the boy who had spoken to them on the day they’d arrived. Perhaps his mother works, she thought, and so he comes out for company. Returning her attention to the older children, she remembered how when she had started work her mother had made sure she had a hearty breakfast of porridge or eggs before setting off for the farm. Once she had proved herself and Mrs Hodges had decided she would keep her on, she lived in, but Mr and Mrs Hodges had always been generous with their victuals, knowing that their farm workers and house staff worked better with good food inside them.

Going back indoors, she built up the fire again and stirred the porridge, hoping they wouldn’t run out of wood and wondering if they could afford a bucket of coal. Perhaps we might take a walk later and collect some kindling, she thought; we must build up a stock for when winter comes. She recalled stepping out of the cottage in Rysome, where there was always a ready supply of twigs or branches that she could trail back to the woodpile for when it was needed.

She unlocked the back door, and taking a clean bucket went into the yard to test if the water in the copper was still warm. The fire had burned out, but when she lifted the wooden lid and tested the water it was just about right for the children to wash in. She plunged the bucket in and half filled it, then replaced the lid and carried the bucket inside. She scrubbed out the stone sink and decided that it was about the right size for Thomas to sit in whilst she washed him down.

After about fifteen minutes she saw through the window that the throng of workers had dwindled; now there were groups of young men passing by, many of them in neat trousers, jackets and caps but some in large bowlers that came down over their ears. Perhaps they were messenger boys, errand lads or office clerks. She had never seen so many people together and was fascinated by the idea of who they might be and where they could be going. The young boy had vanished.