‘Hmm, well don’t get too used to it because I’m afraid my money won’t last long if we don’t find somewhere reasonable for us to stay.’

The next morning after breakfast, Holly paid the hotel bill and they set off in search of somewhere to stay again. Ivy had slept well but Holly had lain awake for much of the night. It had dawned on her in the early hours of the morning that there could be no going back now and she was terrified of what might happen to them if she couldn’t find them somewhere to live, so while Ivy was in a more optimistic mood, Holly looked pale and drawn.

By mid-afternoon they were both forced to admit that what the pieman had told them was true. They were going to have to look for a room to rent rather than a house, at least until they had both found employment. As the light was fading they found themselves wandering through Soho.

‘Ooh, I ain’t too keen on it round here,’ Ivy commented nervously. There seemed to be a large number of clubs with posters of women in various stages of undress outside them, and posh carriages were drawing up outside them depositing well-dressed gentlemen who hastily disappeared inside. Dotted amongst the clubs were shops with grimy windows that seemingly catered to every nationality, and grubby-looking little terraced houses.

It was in the window of one such house that they spotted a sign saying ‘Rooms Vacant’ and they glanced at each other.

‘What do yer think?’ Ivy was the first to speak. ‘I know it’s a bit rough round here but anythin’s better than nothin’, ain’t it? An’ it is gettin’ dark,’ she pointed out.

Holly frowned for a moment as she stared at the paint peeling off the window frames. How different this was to the comforts of her old home. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to look,’ she conceded and with their minds made up she tapped on the door.

After a while they heard the shuffle of footsteps and an old woman opened the door to peer at them suspiciously. Her straggly grey hair was pulled back into an untidy bun on the back of her head and an old shawl of indistinguishable colour was wrapped about her shoulders.

‘Yes?’ she snapped.

Holly licked her lips nervously and explained, ‘We’re looking for a room to rent and saw your sign in the window.’

The woman frowned before asking, ‘You ain’t doxies, are you?’

Holly had no idea what a doxy was but she shook her head. ‘No, we’ve just come to live in London and we’re looking for somewhere to stay until we can rent a house.’

‘Hmm!’ The woman didn’t sound convinced but she opened the door wider and ushered them inside all the same. Instantly the cloying smell of stale urine, boiled cabbage and rotting food assailed them and Holly felt the back of her throat burn with the putrid odours. The walls in the long hallway were painted a dull, drab brown and dirty lino, which was full of holes, covered the floor. Somewhere they could hear a baby crying and what sounded like a couple having a blazing row.