Amber slapped a bowl of stew in front of each of them and a loaf of bread and they fell on the food like animals as she went to fetch the pot of tea she’d made. It was then that Charlotte woke up and instantly started to grizzle, and after a moment the old farmer placed his hands over his ears and pulled a face. ‘Can’t yer shut that brat up?’ he shouted to make himself heard above the baby’s cries. ‘That racket is enough to deafen yer!’

‘It’s because everything is strange to her,’ Amber said defensively as she lifted Charlotte into her arms and began to rock her. She felt quite hot and Amber prayed that it was only because she was teething and not because she had caught some terrible disease in this filthy hovel. With the baby on her hip she spooned a small amount of stew into a bowl and after mashing it down she tried to feed her again but once more Charlotte turned her head away and refused to take so much as a bite.

‘Oh, just give ’er a crust spread wi’ some butter to chew on,’ Mrs Barstow snapped eventually. ‘If she’s teethin’ it’ll ’elp ’er gums.’

But once again, Charlotte slapped the food away, and Amber blinked back tears.

Once the men had eaten their fill they left again for their afternoon’s work and Amber set to as well.

By bedtime she was almost dropping with exhaustion. Even the work she had once done in the laundry at Greenacres had been easier than this, and the fact that Charlotte was clearly so unhappy didn’t help matters. Nor did the fact that the family had almost completely ignored her. Melvin had made no secret that he thought she was the lowest of the low, but as for the other two men, they barely even looked in her direction. Still, she supposed that was better than the alternative, so she shouldn’t complain.