‘I’ll ask about,’ Ellen said. ‘I know somebody who can bake bread.’

The woman nodded but didn’t appear to be convinced. Then she said, ‘My husband was our baker; he died last year, so now I do it. You’ve got to have stamina for this job.’

She nodded, and excused herself again. She had to put in another batch, she said, ready for her dinnertime customers.

Ellen handed yesterday’s loaves to Anna and said she’d share the bread cakes when they got back home. ‘She’s looking for help in ’bakery,’ she added.

Anna thanked her effusively for the bread. ‘But Filip cannot bake!’

‘But you can,’ Ellen said. ‘Or that’s what you said.’

‘How can I work when I have children?’

‘I’ll look after them.’

Anna stopped. ‘You don’t know me. Would you? How? A baker starts very early. And there’s Aron – how would I feed him?’

They continued up the street. ‘You’d have to wean him,’ Ellen said. ‘How old is he?’

‘Nearly two years.’ Anna was silent for a moment and then said, ‘How would we do this?’

‘Let’s go back home and have a cup of tea. The children can have some bread and jam, and we’ll discuss it.’ Ellen looked at her. ‘It might not be for long. When your husband gets work you could stop.’

They walked slowly back and Ellen hoped she hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew. Looking after six children wouldn’t be easy, but then her own mother had had more children than that and seemed to manage. Except, of course, we used to play outside, she thought, we weren’t under her feet all day, and besides, the older girls looked after the younger ones. She glanced at Sarah and Anna’s Zophia; they were not yet old enough to look after themselves, let alone their younger siblings.

She unlocked the front door and then her own and then put her head up. Had she heard someone shout?

‘What was that?’ Anna said. ‘There is someone else in house?’

‘Yes, upstairs; a woman and her mother. I haven’t met them. The daughter came to our door and asked Harry how many children we had. She didn’t want any noise, I think; she said her mother was ill.’

‘I remember now,’ said Anna. ‘We never saw them.’

They both looked up the bare staircase. ‘I ought to go up,’ Ellen said. ‘Perhaps the old lady has fallen.’

They went into the room and deposited the bread on the table. Ellen filled the kettle and put it on the fire. ‘Would you slice ’bread cakes? And there’s some jam in ’cupboard.’

‘Jam? What is jam?’

Ellen laughed and took the jar out of the cupboard to show her.

Anna took it from her and then she laughed too. ‘Dżem. It is the same. And what are bread cakes, please?’