Ruby and Ellie had stared at each other. Their small hoard of cash was nearly gone and they couldn’t afford to be choosy, but the thought of the workhouse was daunting. Neither of them had imagined they would willingly enter one of those fearful places. Having said that, Bridget seemed to be quite happy working there on the whole, and the fact that any employment was becoming harder to find since the brief euphoria after the Great War was a consideration. Ruby had written to Mrs Walton asking for a reference a couple of days after arriving in Newcastle and received a glowing commendation back by return of post, but Ellie was still waiting for something from her previous employer whom she imagined had turned awkward because she had walked out and left him in the lurch. This was an added problem.

With this in mind, Bridget had said persuasively, ‘If you went after this, Ruby, you could vouch for Ellie if you applied together. I’m sure that’d do the trick for her. Your reference was so good, wasn’t it, and it won’t matter it’s not the same kind of work. They go a lot on character an’ all that at the workhouse – it was my old priest in Ireland talking to Father McGuigan who got me the job when I first came here. An’ the money’s not bad, eight bob a week an’ lunch included, and it’s good grub too. You’d eat in the officers’ mess like me as we come in from outside. The officers and outsiders have their own kitchen an’ dining room so it’s separate from the workhouse kitchen an’ dining hall. Even the smell of them poor devils’ food makes you want to gag, take it from me, an’ there was cockroaches in their porridge the other morning ’cause it’d been left to soak overnight in the kitchen.’

Ruby’s face expressed her horror, and realizing she wasn’t selling the job very well, Bridget added hastily, ‘But like I said, the mess is lovely and clean, spotless, and the food’s like you’d get in a hotel or something. We had roast lamb yesterday and baked haddock today an’ it was beautiful, an’ the cook’s apple dumplings and custard can’t be bettered.’ Bridget was as round as she was tall and set great store by her stomach. ‘Anyway, shall I say something to the head laundress and see if they’ve advertised yet? It’s always better to get in first, isn’t it.’