As the days passed, and there was no sign of Joseph, she felt bolder. Joseph was, after all, a man not an ogre. Dishonest and crude, he had nevertheless never managed to harm her. He was not a monster, like those in Hugh’s ridiculous stories for John, but a weak and rather stupid human being. All she had to do was find some hold over him, and that should not be too hard.

He was dishonest. Once or twice, Sam had questioned him about the kerchiefs and purses that appeared and disappeared. The punishment for theft was hanging or, more often these days, deportation. “I will not visit you in prison before they send you away, neither,” Sam told him.

Philomena would use Joseph’s weakness against him. Her first task was to find a disguise that would allow her to approach close to Joseph without being recognised. She checked her appearance in a little gilt mirror near her bed. Her hair had not grown too long. She could easily pass for a boy, as before. Dressing in a man’s garments helped her feel safe. No one looked twice at a youth in the streets by himself, while a woman alone would be a target for whistles and worse. Philomena ventured out to find the items she needed. Her first stop was Petticoat Lane.

“Now I wonder what a nice young lady like you would be wanting with a pair of breeches,” asked the clothes’ seller. Philomena, dressed as drably as she could manage in a brown dress and colourless shawl, turned over the old, worn garments on the stall, using the tips of her fingers. “What have you got?”

“What about this ’ere pair, nice and clean. Come from one of the best houses. I can let you have it for a shilling.”

“A shilling?” Philomena shook her head. “I’ll give you nine pence.”

“Eleven pence and I’m putting my poor children out of dinner tonight,” said the old man, piteously.

Philomena stood firm. “Ten pence, and that’s the most I’ll give you.”

“Ten pence ha’penny?”

“Oh, very well.”

After half an hour of bartering, Philomena had all the clothes she needed. Her skin crawled throughout the transactions. She was terrified to look round in case Joseph appeared behind her. Several times, she sensed he was close, but when she turned, there was only an unknown street hawker or crossing sweeper.

Philomena relaxed at last when she arrived home. She tried on her new clothes and suddenly, she was Phil again: a young lad setting out on adventures. “Watch out, Joseph,” she said, and laughed aloud. “I’m coming for you.”