‘They’re prying all the time to see you don’t get something for nothing. Mrs Gerrard at No. 22 was told to pawn her blankets. And that was in the middle of winter!’ Ivy’s laugh was humourless. ‘Mrs Gerrard’s a big woman and she threw the louse out, telling him to bugger off, she’d manage without his rotten help.’

They continued walking in silence. Although it was only seven in the morning, the queue outside the employment exchange was already long. Some men looked as if they’d been there all night in the hope of being first in line for any job that might be going that day.

The two girls stopped and stared. The look of hopelessness etched on the men’s faces tore the heart out of Jenny. How could this happen? The Wall Street crash had been in America and nobody here had thought it could have anything to do with them, but they had been wrong. World trade had slumped, and jobs had been lost at an alarming rate. Jenny had learnt as much as she could about it, watching the depression take hold, not only in Britain but overseas as well. This country now had unemployed of around two million, but America was much worse. There were around eight million over there without work, but it was a much bigger country, of course. However, that didn’t mean much to those who were destitute.

‘Look at that!’ Ivy whispered in despair. ‘What chance do those poor devils stand? What chance do any of us stand?’

As Jenny’s gaze swept along the line of dejected figures, she gulped back the tears threatening to spill over. Why wasn’t the government doing more for the working classes? Suddenly anger raged through her, with an intensity she had never before experienced. At that moment she realized that she was no longer a frightened child. She had grown up.

‘Come on, Ivy.’ She started to march up the road, dragging Glad’s daughter with her. ‘We might be out of work, but we ain’t down yet! There must be something we can do, and I’m bloody well going to find it.’

‘Oh, Jen,’ Ivy’s spluttered laugh was genuine. ‘You sounded just like one of us then.’

Jenny stopped, turned to Ivy and lifted her head proudly. ‘I am one of you. When my father died, I made a choice to become a servant rather than live a miserable life with a man I hated. I’ve worked my hands raw to survive, and by God I’ve done it! No more self-pity, no more yearning for the past, no more fear. That’s all gone. Now I’m going to roll up my sleeves and fight for us and everyone living on the breadline.’

Ivy threw her arms around Jenny and grinned. ‘My mum and dad said you was special. They were right. But what are you going to do?’