‘Do widzenia.’ Goodbye. He didn’t detain her but let her walk on alone; he was disappointed that she didn’t want to talk, but no doubt she had her reasons. They all did, the passengers on the boats and trains that they had travelled on; all had their reasons for leaving their homeland, and not only the Polish. Germans and Russians too were moving on, and particularly the Jews, always the Jews; and all were cautious, unable to trust anyone completely until they had proved their friendship.

On impulse he walked on, turning into Cumberland Street where someone had told him the new cotton and flax mill was, but not intentionally following Edyta Jablonski; the last thing he wanted was to make an enemy. That was why he had left his homeland and come to England. He wanted peace and harmony for himself and his family, not strife as he had experienced it in Poland.

He saw the wide double doors through which the women and girls were entering but he walked past them, going further round the building and walking with purpose as if he knew where he was going, which he didn’t. However, he guessed that most mills and factories, as in Poland, would have the offices set apart from the working area, and he was right. He turned a corner and saw several young men and a few older ones, presumably clerks, heading through an open single door behind which stairs led to an upper floor.

Filip followed them up to the first floor, nodding to those who greeted him, and asked an older man if he could direct him to the office manager.

‘Well, that’ll be me.’ The man, a short stocky figure, lifted his head to look up at him. ‘I’m ’office manager. What is it you’re after?’

Filip took off his cap. ‘I am Filip Bosco. I am engineer,’ he said. ‘I wish to enquire after employment.’

‘An engineer? Ah, well, you need to speak to Jarvis, he’s ’works manager. Come on, I’ll tek you. It’s a warren of a place if you don’t know it and you’ll never find him.’ He called to one of the young men. ‘Get started on ’wages, will you, and when Hargreaves gets in tell him I want ’invoices finishing afore dinner.’

‘Yes, Mr Marshall,’ the clerk said and scurried away.

‘Come wi’ me,’ Marshall said, and led the way back downstairs again. Filip smiled. Better this way, he thought. Better to be taken to the man in charge by someone who knew him, rather than wandering around asking all and sundry.

He was led into the mill where the machines were already in motion, humming and rattling, and he was saddened, as he always was, to see very young girls as well as women gearing up to their regular work instead of being allowed their childhood.