I followed her out from the rail line inside some other sort of station which at first felt darker yet than the tunnel, but then there was someone waving a lamp and I began to make out six sweating donkeys heaving on a treadmill, a man in livery whipping the beasts so that they might pull harder. From there we moved upstairs into a vast chamber as big as a church and I supposed that now we must be inside the mansion itself at the bottom of it, full of clanging and shouting, and everyone there wore white, or something approaching white, and steam rose up from many different places. This was one of the kitchens, the evening meal was being prepared and all was great action. I was marshalled beyond, still reverberating from the strange bumpy journey and the shrieking whistle, so that though my aching head might have realised the journey was over and we had arrived, my body was still trundling along. I followed the thin figure out of the steaming chamber up more stairs and into a study of some sort with a desk and a pleasant armchair with a flowery pattern. Seated in the chair was a lady, quite handsome, who smiled at me as I came in.

‘I am Mrs Piggott,’ said the woman, ‘the housekeeper here.’

Mrs Piggott’s hair was done up at the back in a very neat tight little bun, everything about her was tidy, but her teeth, when she opened her mouth I saw her teeth were worn almost to nothing.

‘Do you know where you are?’ she asked.

‘The man who came for me said Forlichingham Park.’

‘It is, child, though here we call it Heap House. There’s nowhere else for miles around, should you travel out beyond the gates you’d get very lost and it would be devil hard to find you. We are in the dumps, dear, far out in the waste dumps. There’s no map that has this place on it. We’re quite sealed off.’

‘Can I sit? I’m a bit wobbly,’ I said, ‘that train, the smell out there …’

‘Sick it up then, poor dear, whatever it is. Get out of you all that’s not from here, best if you do. For now, young lady, you are from here. Keep standing though. You may not sit.’

‘Is there a window?’ I said. ‘I want to look out of a window.’

‘No windows down here, only upstairs. Though it is true candles and gas must be lit day and night, even there. You’ll get the hang of it soon enough.’

She tenderly laid a hand on my cheek. She smelt of lavender. Some other servants came into the room then, women all of them and in plain dark uniform.

‘Thank you, Iremongers,’ said Mrs Piggott.

‘Thank you, Mrs Piggott,’ they all said.