The other occupants of Mrs Wood’s lodging house seemed to sense Daisy’s inner turmoil and they went out of their way to comfort her. The two older ladies invited her to share their tea and biscuits whenever she came across them in the parlour, and Ivy was always ready to chat about anything and everything. She was a different person now that she was free from Jonah Sawkins’ attentions. He had not bothered her since Daisy had sent him away, although Ivy said she had seen him walking out with the barmaid from the Old Three Tuns, who towered over him and made him walk to heel like a well-trained puppy. Perhaps, Ivy suggested with obvious relish, Jonah secretly liked dominant women with muscular forearms like a navvy and a reputation for throwing drunks bodily from a pub. Despite the unfavourable description of Jonah’s latest conquest, Daisy could not imagine what any decent woman could see in him, but it was a relief to know that he was no longer a threat to Ivy, who definitely deserved better.

Winter was closing in, with freezing temperature and peasouper fogs, and there was a threat of snow in the air. Heavy clouds hovered just above the rooftops, trapping the smoke from thousands of chimneys and filling the air with noxious fumes.

Daisy was in the outpatient department one morning when a young seaman was brought in on a stretcher. He was suffering from severe burns to his face and torso and was in a great deal of pain. Toby was on duty and he gave the patient a hefty dose of laudanum before beginning the examination.

‘Can you tell me your name?’ Toby asked gently.

The young man muttered something unintelligible and Daisy had to lean closer in an attempt to understand him. ‘I think he’s saying Benny and something about a ship.’

‘How did this happen to you, Benny?’ Toby leaned closer. ‘I can’t understand what he’s saying, Daisy. Can you?’

‘No, I didn’t get a word of that.’ She held Benny’s hand. ‘We’ll take care of you.’

‘Find out if anyone came with him, Daisy.’

‘Yes, Doctor.’ Daisy left the cubicle and walked out into the main reception area, threading her way through crowds of people of all ages, some in rags and others reasonably well dressed. She stopped one of the porters.

‘Do you know if there was anyone with the injured seaman?’

‘One of his shipmates came with the poor fellow.’ The porter jerked his head in the direction of a man who was standing by the door, looking as if he would rather be anywhere than in a hospital.

‘Thank you, Smith.’ Daisy left him and made her way towards the man, who looked disturbingly familiar. She had a sudden memory of a sunny day in a secluded creek off the River Crouch.

He turned his head at the sound of her approaching footsteps and a look of recognition crossed his weathered features.

‘What ship are you from?’ Daisy asked breathlessly, but she already knew the answer.