‘We know it’s by a canal,’ Katie said. ‘You see, when Margaret and the boys escaped from the orphanage it was at night and so they followed the canal.’

‘Come to that,’ said Sarah, ‘they lived later on a canal boat. They used to lead the horse, Margaret said.’

Tommy Smith could see the constable was getting confused.

‘I think you will get the information you want from Lord and Lady Corkberry. There seems no doubt that Lord Delaware’s granddaughter did work for them, so they would know the address of the orphanage for she probably came from there.’

‘Meanwhile,’ said the constable, ‘we are carrying out a wide search in London. The man we want is the cab driver who drove the child away.’ He turned to Sarah. ‘You’re sure you don’t remember anything about him, how did he speak?’

This was something Sarah could answer with certainty.

‘He was a Cockney, rough-speaking he was.’

‘But you never got a look at him?’

Sarah was scornful. ‘In this fog! Anyway, when I moved to get into the cab, he gave me a push which sent me sprawling and, by the time I was up, the cab was gone. Me and Mrs Wallow listened but we couldn’t hear a sound; she wanted me to come back into the house and have a drop of brandy but I said no, we must start a search right away, so I came here just as fast as I could.’

‘We have sent a constable to interview Mrs Wallow,’ the policeman told Tommy Smith. Then he closed his book. ‘There’s no more I can do here for the present. You’ll be hearing, sir, the moment we know anything.’

Margaret, lying on the cab floor, was not frightened, but blazingly angry. How dare Matron put her dirty boots on her, Margaret Thursday! How dare she kidnap her! She was not in the orphanage now. She was an actress earning her own living. Then, as the cab turned into a busy street, Margaret stopped thinking how angry she was and attended to the traffic. If she listened could she tell where about she was? At first the sounds were confusing: the clop of horses’ feet mixed with shouts from drivers who could not see clearly and needed a passageway through the fog. But presently she heard new sounds: men shouting, the banging of boxes, the rumble of heavy carts. For a few moments she could not remember why the sounds were familiar, then it came back to her, they were somewhere near where Lou lived. They were in Covent Garden.

‘If only I could turn over and get a look outside,’ she thought, ‘even in the fog I’d get an idea which road I was in. Besides, if I could turn over, I could bite Matron’s leg …’

That was the moment when, in answer to a shouted ‘Whoa!’ from the driver, the horse stopped.

Chapter Nineteen

A TELEGRAM FOR LIZA

Liza seldom went to school, her mother always had an excuse ready: one of the babies was ill and she had to keep Liza at home to help out or Liza had been having private lessons, any lie would do which could pacify the attendance man sent to find where she was. On the day Margaret was missing Liza’s mother had a job, so Liza was at home cooking the children’s lunch, for all eight had been kept at home while the fog lasted. When there was a knock on the door Liza sent one of the younger children to answer it.