Den tried, in a manly fashion, then shook his head. ‘I’ll ask Mr Blount,’ he said gruffly, and vanished again.

They managed to build the fire and, after what seemed an eternity to Annie, who was worried about getting home, the water boiled for tea. Annie cut bread for Den and the little girls who came to the table, all three gulping the food down like hungry little dogs. She made black tea, looking round for anything to pour it into. There were two cups so she gave them to Lizzie and her mother.

‘You can all have some after,’ she promised, smiling at the children, who looked solemnly back at her. The two little girls, she noticed, at least had shoes on their feet. ‘But we must wash the cups properly.’

She could see there would be nothing in the way of soap in the house, so very hot water would have to do.

There was nothing else to sit on so Annie stood by the table as the children ate. She had not fitted either of the new gas mantles and the light of the candle was dwindling now, so she lit one of those she had bought, seeing tiny flames reflected in the eyes of the little girls.

‘Are you twins?’ she asked them.

They glanced at each other, then nodded, mouths crammed. With their bird’s-nest hair, grimy faces and cut-down clothes, there was something wild-looking about them, but they had a sweetness to them also, like Lizzie. Annie wondered what had happened to this family, but now did not seem the time to ask. She was about to enquire as to their names, when Den spoke up.

‘That’s Ada, that’s Ivy,’ he said. Some food had improved his mood a little, but he still had a gruff, angry manner.

‘It’s very good of yer, lady.’ Annie heard Mrs Poole’s voice from behind her, so soft that she only just caught the words. She was sitting up, sipping at the tea. Annie had asked Mrs Wills for an ounce of sugar and it seemed to be bringing the woman round a little. Annie had also put some water aside to cool in a saucer for the baby.

‘Oh, everyone needs a helping hand when there’s sickness about,’ Annie said.

‘I don’t know as I can pay yer . . . I’m doing my best to work, but . . . I’m not lazy, yer know – I wouldn’t want yer thinking I’m . . .’ She trailed off.

‘It’s all right, Mrs Poole,’ Annie said.

‘It’s summat going round,’ Mrs Poole said weakly. ‘Next door’ve ’ad it . . . And I can’t manage . . . Not like this . . .’

‘Don’t worry, Mom.’ Lizzie was sipping her tea as well. ‘I’ll soon have my wages . . .’