‘Ah, that’s nice. We’re off to see our daughter, Miriam, aren’t we, Fred?’ She flashed a smile at the old man seated next to her who was now happily puffing on a pipe, filling the carriage with smoke that stung Amber’s eyes. ‘Just had a baby she has.’ The old woman smiled proudly. ‘Her fifth it is, another boy an’ all, an’ her were so desperate for a little lass.’ She chuckled. ‘Still, like I told her, so long as the little soul is healthy, eh? She’ll have her own football team at this rate!’

Amber managed a weak smile before returning her attention to the window and thankfully soon after, when she peeped at the woman from the corner of her eye, she saw that she had fallen into a doze.

Her mother had told her that it was approximately twenty miles from Whitby to Scarborough and would probably take about two to three hours by carriage so for the next hour Amber sat back quietly and when the old woman roused, she closed her own eyes and pretended to be asleep. It was a shock when, in what seemed like no time at all, she felt someone gently shaking her arm and she realised that she really had dropped off.

‘Come on, lass. We’re here,’ the old lady told her cheerily. ‘I hope the job wi’ your uncle goes well. Ta-ra for now!’

Amber knuckled the sleep from her eyes and lifting her carpetbag she scrambled out of the carriage and looked around before fumbling in the top of it for her uncle’s address as the coach driver lifted her suitcase from the roof.

Marine View, Royal Albert Road, she read and after asking directions she set off to find it. As far as she could recollect, she had only every visited her uncle once with her mother when she was a little girl, so the streets were unfamiliar to her, but at last she found herself walking along Marine Parade, and she stared at the grand houses that looked out across the sea in amazement. They were so high they seemed to reach the sky and were far grander than she’d expected. But then she recalled her mother telling her that her uncle owned his own shop so he could probably well afford to live in such a house.

Eventually she came to one with a sign that announced this was ‘Marine View’ and she gawped at its frontage in awe. It was three storeys high and the many windows winked in the sunshine. There was a low railing all along the front that led up to a smart red door with a shiny brass knocker on it and to the left further steps went downwards to what she guessed would be a kitchen. But which way should I go? she mused.