He half raised his head and stared at them, saying nothing, but the expression in his eyes chilled her already troubled heart. A cold, male gaze. Like his gaze. That look she had once mistaken for love. She wondered if she would ever be able to look into the eyes of a man again. A shudder went through her.

‘Annie – let’s go back now,’ she said, suddenly afraid.

‘But look –’ Annie was peering along a narrow slit between two buildings. ‘All along there are these passages. I want to see what’s behind – it must be where people live. These are just the sort of places that Mr Rowntree was writing about.’

‘Annie, you can’t go intruding on people’s privacy!’ Margaret said, trying to grasp her sister’s arm, but Annie shook her off.

‘You just wait there one moment. I’m going to see.’

‘Annie, no!’ But there was no stopping her. She slipped into the dark passageway, leaving Margaret standing on the corner feeling conspicuous and furious. She lowered her head, hiding in the shade of her hat brim. Why must Annie be so headstrong and arrogant? What did she want with nosing into such places?

After a few moments left waiting there to be stared at by the few passers-by, Margaret thought, I can’t just stand here. It seemed easier to follow.

The passageway was like a tunnel through the houses, arched overhead so that the only light was what filtered in each end. As she stepped into it, the air was suddenly cool and dank, even in the summer warmth. The bricks she was walking on were rough and potted with holes. She felt her way carefully so as not to rick an ankle, having to steady herself with her hand on the slimy wall. The passage took her along the length of the building and she soon joined Annie, who had paused at the far end.

‘Oh, my goodness,’ she whispered.

The alley opened into a yard, its atmosphere so overcast and sunless that it felt almost like dusk even at midday. Never in her life before had she seen so cheerless a place. All along one side were the doorways of small, shabby houses built up against a wall and all facing a blank, soot-encrusted wall the other side. There were slates missing from the sagging roofs, windows broken or boarded up. One had no door, only a gaping black hole for an entrance. Several washing lines were suspended across with a few items hanging limply from them. There was a tilted lamp in the middle of the uneven bricks. At the far end they could see some other low buildings, an upended barrel standing in front of them. A rank smell drifted from somewhere. No one was about in the yard. Everything looked and smelt mean and demoralizing.