‘Who is he?’

‘Rex is a cat, Mrs Wood’s pride and joy, and he’s the terror of the local vermin. You’ll meet the brute sooner or later, and if you’ll take my advice you’ll pet him, even if he hisses at you, and smile if he scratches you. To be honest, he’s a hateful creature, but Mrs Wood adores him.’ Minnie came to a halt at a coffee stall on the corner of Fieldgate Street and Whitechapel Road. ‘What have you got for me today, Joe?’

Despite a brief shower, they drank their coffee standing close to the stall and, having returned the mugs, they walked the short distance to the churchyard of St Mary Matfelon, where they sat on a slightly damp bench and ate ham rolls and hard-boiled eggs. It was almost dark by the time they arrived back at Mrs Wood’s lodging house and Ivy let them in, but she did not look pleased. Her pale face was marred by a sulky pout and her sandy eyebrows were drawn together in a frown.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ Minnie demanded as she stepped over the threshold.

‘It’s her.’ Ivy pointed a finger at Daisy. ‘He went on and on about her after you’d gone.’

Daisy entered the hall, closing the door behind her. ‘Jonah isn’t a nice person. Maybe it’s the life he led before he came to live and work in the shop, but you could do better.’

‘You’re just jealous.’ Ivy headed for the stairs, but she came to a halt, rounding on Daisy. ‘I’ll never get a husband. If a cripple like Jonah throws me over for someone else, what hope is there for a dull little thing like me?’

Daisy shook her head. ‘Don’t say things like that, Ivy. You’ll meet someone who really appreciates you.’

‘I thought Jonah did until you came along.’

‘Believe me, you don’t want to get too involved with Jonah Sawkins. He’s mean and you can’t trust him.’

‘That’s what you say, but I don’t believe you.’ Ivy picked up her skirts and took the stairs two at a time.

‘I never liked him,’ Minnie said, shrugging. ‘She’ll have to learn the hard way, Daisy. Don’t waste your breath on her.’

Daisy took off her damp mantle and untied the strings of her bonnet. ‘What do we do now? Are we allowed to use the parlour?’

‘Oh, Lord, yes. Mrs Wood lights a fire at exactly half-past four in the afternoon.’

‘That seems very reasonable.’

Minnie pulled a face. ‘It saves on coal and kindling because we aren’t allowed to have a fire in our rooms, no matter how cold it gets, so we huddle round the hearth in the front room. It also means that she can keep an eye on us, and there’s little or no chance of anyone smuggling a gentleman friend into the house.’

Even as the words left Minnie’s lips, the parlour door opened and Mrs Wood emerged, bristling with importance.

‘Miss Marshall, you have a visitor. He assures me that he is your brother.’