‘Oh, no!’ As she stepped inside, Lizzie clapped one hand over her mouth and with the other tried to bar Annie’s way. ‘Stay there, Annie – you’d best not come in!’

But the combination of stenches unwinding itself through the open front door had already reached Annie, so awful that she quickly resorted to an old habit of breathing through her mouth.

‘It’s all right, Lizzie,’ she said gently, sorry for the girl’s shame. ‘People can’t help being ill.’

As Lizzie relented and they stepped inside, Annie, with shock, took in the sight of the one downstairs room, which was barely any lighter than the yard they had just left.

A stub of candle flickered on a saucer on the table which occupied most of the cramped abode and was littered with bits of boxes and cards. There were a few other pieces of furniture: chairs and a cupboard. Some heat must have been coming out of the black range at the far side of the room, for it was not deathly cold. The grizzling of the child continued and from somewhere was emanating the most terrible combination of smells.

‘Lizzie!’ What seemed a pile of rags occupying the one armchair close to the range, got to its feet in the shape of a boy, who was hauling up into his arms the crying child who had been on his lap. The lad sagged under the weight. The crying stopped for a moment as the little one noticed a change in things.

‘’Ve yer got summat to eat?’ he demanded. ‘Our Nellie won’t shurrup – and ’er’s sicked on me.’

Annie could see that the boy looked about eight or nine, the child in his arms more than a baby – perhaps as old as two years.

‘Denny,’ Lizzie spoke faintly. ‘Go and empty out that pail – now. It’s terrible. Give Nellie to me . . .’

‘It’s all right.’ Annie stepped forwards. ‘You’ve not the strength, Lizzie. I’ll take her.’

The boy shot her a look thick with suspicion but Lizzie said, ‘It’s all right, Den.’

As Annie found herself holding a child, wet, stinking of urine, but at least no longer howling, she heard another faint voice say, ‘Lizzie – that you?’

‘Mom?’ Lizzie said.

Annie could not see anyone at first. As Lizzie moved towards the fireplace, Annie became aware of two more pairs of eyes watching her. Two little girls who looked much the same size, with nests of pale, straggly hair, sat side by side on the bottom step of the stairs which opened out of one side of the room.

‘’Oo the ’ell’s that lady?’ the boy demanded, staring at her.

‘Shoosh, Den – language. The lady works at the factory with me, ’er’s a friend,’ Lizzie said, having no idea how much this lifted Annie’s heart and gave her fresh courage. ‘Tek the pail out, Den – it stinks terrible.’