Lizzie turned and nodded faintly. ‘Mom’s a bit better. ’Er made me some tea. I don’t feel like anything much.’

Annie wondered if this was just Lizzie making a virtue of necessity. She worried about the girl all day, glancing at her often as they raced through their work, pouring torrents of the shiny, sharp-edged blanks into the boxes below the press. She felt protective towards sweet little Lizzie as though she was her younger sister. To her surprise, she realized that she had not once thought of talking to Lizzie about faith, or asked if she ever read the Bible. She just felt sorry for her and wanted to help.

Lizzie kept her head down and worked. When the bell rang at dinner time, guessing that the girl would have no food and no one bringing her any, Annie said, ‘Look, Lizzie, come out with me. You can meet my sister and we’ll have a bite together.’

‘I’m not really hungry,’ Lizzie tried to resist.

‘Come on.’ Annie took her arm. ‘If you’re not still being sick, you’ll feel better for something inside you.’

Margaret was waiting outside as usual, with a pudding basin filled with last night’s stew. Annie felt happy and proud at the sight of her graceful-looking sister in her grey coat, and her lovely, reassuring face under her hat.

‘This is Lizzie,’ she said. ‘Lizzie, this is my sister Margaret.’

Annie saw Margaret take Lizzie in and manage to quell her shock at how young the girl looked, how thin and ill. Lizzie nodded shyly at her, not seeming to have the energy to do anything else.

‘Nice to meet you, Lizzie,’ Margaret said, and Lizzie suddenly managed a smile, hearing the kindness in her voice. ‘Here, look –’ Margaret said to Annie. ‘Mrs S has put plenty more potatoes in for you.’

‘Good,’ Annie said. ‘We’re going to share it, aren’t we, Lizzie? I can’t eat all this.’ It was untrue but it seemed to make Lizzie feel a bit better.

They said goodbye to Margaret and went to the room in the factory where they were allowed to eat, sitting at old, deal tables. The room was full of chatter. Annie saw Doris and some of the others eyeing them as they came in but for once Doris kept her observations to herself.

‘Go on,’ Annie encouraged Lizzie. She held out the spoon to her. ‘Have some. It’s still nice and warm and the gravy’s lovely.’

She saw Lizzie steel herself, as if she wasn’t certain eating was a good idea. She shaved off a little piece of gravy-dipped potato and put it in her mouth. A look of pleasure came over her.

‘That’s nice.’

‘Go on,’ Annie said. ‘Have all you like. I had some last night – your need is greater than mine.’