“Ah, that explains it,” said that miserable landlady. “I don’t like surprises.”

“I can go, if you like,” I told her. “Now that I’ve brought your aunt here.”

I did not want to be rude or have a fight. I did not want to go back to London and start looking for work all over again. But I was tired of the messing about. We might as well be clear.

“You can find someone else to help you if I won’t do,” I added.

Jane put a stop to this conversation.

“Of course you will do.” She laid her hand on my arm, as if she were hanging on to me for support. “Louisa and I understand each other. I shouldn’t want a new companion after we’ve had such a nice time travelling together.”

A nice time travelling together! I nearly smiled.

Mrs. Campbell did laugh, a dry snort that told me she wasn’t fooled about what kind of a journey we’d had. But she didn’t ask me to leave.

So I brought in the rest of the luggage. Then I got to look at the inside of the Limehouse. I’d never set foot in a pub before. Even Mummy and Daddy wouldn’t have gone into a pub together, and certainly not with me tagging along.

The floor of the public bar was gray flagstones and the walls were whitewashed, with deep-set windows like the ones in the Windyedge village cottages. The bar had a brass countertop. Oak beams, black with age, held up the low ceiling above the bar. There was a scatter of tables, wooden benches and stools, and one or two proper chairs with armrests and cushions on the seats. On one side of the room, between two windows, was a battered upright piano; across from it, beside the bar, rose a chimney over a big fireplace. There was no fire burning in the grate.

The place wasn’t welcoming just now. But it wasn’t unfriendly. It was empty and waiting. It might be nice, if there were people drinking at the bar, and the fire were lit, and there were music.

I wondered where a girl like me would fit into that picture.

Mrs. Campbell’s eyes widened again when she saw Jane’s luggage.

“I thought you were only allowed one case at—at that place. There’s no surface for the gramophone in Room Number Five, and anyway I’ve put the wireless in there for you.”

“Oh, surely the gramophone can stay down here?” Jane suggested winningly. “And the records? I understand the lads from the aerodrome spend time here—perhaps they’d enjoy hearing some music.”

Jane put down her sticks and dropped herself quite suddenly onto a chair.

“You said there were stairs,” she said. “I’m just having a rest before I tackle them. Louisa, open that smaller case. I’ve brought a gift for Nancy.”