Harry had chanced upon Filip as he set off for work that morning, when Filip caught up and walked alongside him. They recognized each other; they were bound to. Harry remembered Filip’s dark hair and beard and his height; Filip would have recognized Harry’s fair, almost blond hair, stocky build and blue eyes even had he not seen him come out of the house where the Boscos had lived. He told Harry he was getting desperate. They were receiving money from the parish coffers but it was very little, and only because they had a family. He said Anna was becoming thinner by the day, and that none of them had enough food; most of what there was was given to the children.

‘There might be soup kitchens in ’town,’ Harry said. ‘I’ll ask some of ’men at work when I get to know them. This is my first day, so I don’t know anybody yet.’

‘It is difficult; we eat kosher food. The Jewish community have helped us. Where you work? Maybe I ask them for a job?’

‘Why not? The owner I met seems decent,’ Harry said. ‘It’s just along here; look up on ’wall. R. Tannerson and Son. Give them a try. They can say no, but they might say yes. This is new to me,’ he said, as they approached the gates. ‘I’m a countryman; thought I’d be in farming for all of my life.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t even know what job I’ll be given.’

He hadn’t been told by Tannerson and he hadn’t asked; he just needed work. He didn’t know why he recommended that Filip should try, except that he had taken a chance himself and was certain that his new acquaintance would take anything that was on offer.

‘I know about milling and seed crushing,’ Filip murmured. ‘At least about the machines that does – do the milling. I am engineer.’ He repeated what he had already told Harry. ‘Every country in the world needs engineers. But not always foreign ones.’

That was true, Harry thought. We all like to use our own folk first. But then he remembered a school friend who had left the district and set off for Australia. His father had boasted that he’d travelled inland – upcountry, he’d called it – and was now running his own sheep farm. He was welcomed, but Harry supposed the difference was that Australia needed fresh labour for their vast country. But surely we all move on at some time, otherwise why am I here, a countryman in the middle of an industrial town?