‘Goodness, what a day!’ Sybil said, looking out of the back window at the bloated clouds.

Marek had gone to Birmingham to meet his sister’s train. Sybil had taken deliveries of food and was cooking up a pot of vegetable soup, with Michael helping to cut up the vegetables.

Sybil threw out some stray thoughts. ‘I do hope the poor girl’s got a mac’ and then, ‘I must get the house ready for Christmas. Mr Jenkins said he’d go along and fetch a tree for me, even though he’s going off to his mother’s.’

‘Oh, is he?’ Katie said, trying to help Michael with the potatoes. ‘Where does she live again?’ Although she had shared a house with Geoff Jenkins all this time, she never felt she got to know him any better. Now that he was courting he was hardly about.

‘Kidderminster way, I believe. That’s it – pass me those. And put the kettle on, will you, there’s a dear.’

Later, when the soup was bubbling away and they’d had a cup of tea, they heard the front door. Archie erupted into volleys of barking.

‘You go,’ Sybil said. ‘You’ll get there more quickly – get them in out of the wet. And for goodness’ sake, grab Archie – she may not like dogs.’

Katie ran and pushed a protesting Archie into the cold front room. She opened up to find Marek outside, holding his coat over the heads of himself and his sister while he carried her case in the other hand.

‘Quickly!’ Katie said. ‘Come in.’ She had an impression of someone very thin and wiry, with large eyes, at Marek’s side.

Piotr came bounding downstairs to greet them and there were hugs and a lot of excited chatter in Polish, and outraged barking from the other side of the front-room door. Katie was glad to have a few seconds to stand aside and take in the sight of this new person in all their lives. She could see that Agnieska was strikingly like Marek, with similar pronounced cheekbones and big blue eyes, with dark lashes, contrasting with her pale hair, which was tied back. Her face was very pale and she looked delicate, but her full lips were parted in a smile.

‘Agnieska,’ Marek guided her, a hand behind her shoulders. ‘This is Katie.’ He added a comment in Polish.

Agnieska came towards her with an open, enquiring expression and Katie saw a sweet smile. She liked the girl already, felt drawn to her waiflike looks. She said something that sounded like ‘Chaisch . . .’ Then, ‘Hello . . .’ And held out her hand. When Katie took it, it felt bony, but there was a wiry strength to her, even though she looked younger than her twenty years.

‘Hello,’ Katie said, shyly. ‘Nice to meet you.’