With ulcers bathed, newborns weighed and checked and postnatal mothers put at ease over their worries, Danuta cycled through the teeming rain to Jack’s workshop. She stepped inside and shook the rain off her coat and scarf. ‘Hello, Jack. On your own today?’

He looked up from servicing a car engine. ‘It seems that way,’ he replied. ‘You look as if you need a cuppa. Come in and sit by the heater while I put the kettle on.’

‘I am very wet,’ she agreed. ‘And a cup of tea would be most welcome.’ She dragged off her sodden scarf and beret and ruffled her fingers through her damp hair. Taking off the raincoat, she shook it vigorously and hung it up above the heater to dry out before perching on an upturned crate.

Jack handed her a mug of tea. ‘Get that down you before you catch your death of cold,’ he said, sitting on a nearby oil-drum with his own grubby mug. ‘So, Danuta, what can I do for you today?’

‘I have come to ask about buying a small car. It will not be new, of course, but it must be reliable because I have to use it for my work.’

‘I might have something coming in at the end of next week,’ he replied, eyeing her over the lip of his mug of tea. ‘How much were you thinking of paying?’

Danuta smiled at him. ‘That depends on how much you are asking, and if the car is worth it.’

Jack chuckled. ‘There’s no flies on you, are there, girl?’

Danuta frowned in confusion. ‘I have no flies. They do not come out in the rain.’

Jack tipped back his head and laughed. ‘You’re right,’ he spluttered eventually. ‘It’s too cold and wet for flies.’ He looked at her fondly. ‘I’ll see what I can do about a car,’ he said. ‘Can’t have you out in all weathers. But they’re pricey, Danuta, and then there’s the running cost and insurance.’

‘How much is new car?’ she asked solemnly.

‘Over three hundred quid,’ he replied, ‘but I can probably find a little second-hand one under the hundred.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Her spirits plummeted. ‘And what could I get for fifty pounds?’

She saw Jack bite back a quick answer, and, crestfallen, had to accept she was nowhere near being able to afford such a luxurious thing as a car.

He must have seen her disappointment, for he patted her shoulder and shot her an encouraging smile. ‘I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise anything, love. Fifty quid doesn’t go very far these days when it comes to motors – but we could get lucky.’

She nodded gratefully and drank the last of her tea. ‘I will keep my fingers crossed, Jack. Now I must go to Memorial Hospital to see Stanislaw. He is not well, I think, and I worry for him.’

Jack eyed the rain that was pelting down, and tossed the remains of his tea out into the nearby drain. ‘I’ll take you up there in the truck,’ he said. ‘Can’t have you pedalling all that way in this.’ Without waiting for a reply, he handed her the medical bag and hoisted her bike into the flatbed.