“I suppose you’ve earned that,” Sally conceded, setting Alfie at her feet. “My Robert says he’s never smelt the like, and he’s a tosher.”

Baffled, Margaret looked to Susannah for clarification. “He goes down the sewers with a fishing net looking for coins or nails to sell on,” she explained.

“You know what they say,” Sally chipped in irrepressibly. “Where there’s muck, there’s brass!”

Shuddering, Margaret took a sip of the stewed tea, bracing herself for its fierce, tarry taste. On the other side of the room, the children had finished their jam sandwiches and milk, and were playing one of their complicated ball games. Most of the mothers were either knitting or stitching as they drank their tea, their eyes on each other rather than their work. Stockings, shirts, and chemises were created at speed. Rips were repaired, holes darned, and new cuffs and collars attached. How many times, sitting through a tea with Mama’s friends, had she heard the oohs and aahs of admiration for an entirely useless sampler!

“Verity couldn’t make it today?”

“Her ankles have swollen up so much she can’t hardly walk.” Agnes tutted. “I brought her two littlest ones along, told her to put her feet up, though whether she will or not . . .”

“I have some Epsom salts,” Susannah said. “Tell her to mix them with cold water and rest her feet in the solution for fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll tell her, but you know Verity,” Agnes said. “Can’t sit still for a second. I remember when she had her first, must be fifteen years ago now . . .”

“No more than thirteen, for her eldest isn’t twelve yet.”

“And this will be what—baby number nine?”

“Ten. Fingers crossed. She’s not kept well since the last one. You must remember, she had a terrible time of it.”

Margaret listened with her customary fascinated horror as the women embarked on a graphic description of the experience of giving birth. It was a popular topic, second only to the demands placed upon them by their husbands. Unlike pregnancy, which was universally abhorred, husbands split the group. Some of the women claimed discharging their marital duties was an endurance test, but a majority, to Margaret’s astonishment, seemed to enjoy it.

“I make sure Robert has a good wash first, mind.” Sally cackled. “You never know where he’s been!”

“The problem is, we do!” Agnes retorted, and the group of women erupted with raucous laughter.