Exhausted as she was, having eaten nothing for hours, she still felt electric with tension, longing just to get home and reassure everyone that she was all right. She could not get warm and kept the old yellow blanket on, disreputable as it looked. The journey passed surprisingly fast and by ten o’clock, the train was nosing its way into Birmingham. Margaret smiled with joy at the sight of the endless rows of chimneys and factories. Never would she have imagined herself so overjoyed to see them and regard this place as home!

By ten fifteen, they arrived at Snow Hill. It was only a mile to get home and she set off at a brisk walk, desperate to get there as fast as possible. She felt relieved and foolish and terribly apologetic towards her aunt and uncle – and Annie too. Though she had been away for less than twenty-four hours, it felt more like weeks.

As she turned the corner into Chain Street, a shock of sudden recognition passed through her. A man was walking along the pavement ahead of her, dressed in a black ulster, a broad-shouldered, utterly familiar figure. Father. William Hanson’s walk was brisk, his head down. The sight of him caught her breath. He was heading for number twenty-six. Why was he here – had they summoned him? Could it be because of her?

He turned in through the gate, but before she had even reached the house, a little figure ran out from the front and, with her green dress and golden hair billowing about her, came tearing along the pavement.

‘You’re back! Oh, Miss Margaret . . . ! Den said you got on a train and he tried to follow you and they grabbed him and wouldn’t let him go on the platform!’ Daisy flung her arms about Margaret’s waist and clung to her. ‘He said he didn’t like that man and he was going to get on the train. Oh, I’m so glad you’re back – everyone’s been worried to death!’ She gave her a squeeze, and before Margaret could say anything, rushed back to the house shouting, ‘Pa! Pa! She’s here – Miss Margaret’s come back!’ Still shouting she tore in through their front door.

Within seconds Margaret, dishevelled, exhausted and bewildered, found herself face to face with two distraught-looking men: Philip Tallis, who appeared at his door, and her father, who was standing at the door of number twenty-six. She felt a clutch of dread at the sight of her father, at his grim expression. It came to her that he had always filled her with a sense of wrongdoing.

‘Margaret!’ Philip rushed down to the pavement and she saw the distress in his face giving way to relief at the sight of her.