A job was essential – not an easy task in these days of horrendous unemployment – but she was determined to find some way of earning money. She was sure Mrs Stannard would find her a job at the centre, but she didn’t want to do that if it could be avoided. She had caused that family enough trouble, and she would feel awful begging them for work. No, she must find something without their help, and she would start the search today. This might be the time to sell the pendant and that, hopefully, would give her a few weeks’ rent, and a breathing space to find work. Ma had always been against her selling the last reminder she had of her father, but Jenny didn’t think she would have objected in these circumstances.

She had been so lost in her plans that the tea she had poured was now cold; it was tipped away and another cup poured. This one she drank immediately. She wasn’t hungry yet and would get herself something to eat later.

Whatever Greaves had planned for her had gone disastrously wrong. Because the police had questioned him, she didn’t believe he would attempt anything else again. Nevertheless, it was terrifying to see what he was capable of. After his visit to Ma’s with her aunt she had been sure she wouldn’t see him again; it had been unwise to dismiss him so lightly. But he was probably a coward at heart, and having nearly been caught must have frightened him. She sincerely hoped it had scared the wits out of him!

Now that the kitchen was warmer, Jenny got washed and dressed, then cleared out the fire in the front room and laid it ready for lighting later in the day. She wouldn’t waste the coal, as she intended to be out most of the day.

There was a sharp rap on the front door, then it was pushed open and Fred looked in. ‘Morning, Jen. I thought you’d be up.’

‘Come in, Fred.’ Jenny stood up, wiping her dirty hands on her pinafore. She grinned when she saw how muffled he was: only his eyes and nose showed. There was a woollen scarf tied around his head and then wrapped around his neck, with his cap perched on the top of it. Woollen gloves and several layers of coats completed the picture. ‘You sure you’re going to be warm enough?’

He rubbed his hands together. ‘It’s bloody cold at Covent Garden this early in the morning. It’s more like February than the middle of December. Wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t snow for Christmas.’

‘Let’s hope it doesn’t.’ The thought of families living in icy rooms because they couldn’t afford to heat them worried Jenny.