My sister had betrayed me, but it was far more Spencer’s fault than Joan’s. She had been an idiot, but her trip to find me was her way of trying to make things right. I could not turn her away. I could not risk the silly girl being picked up by the parish. She would not last a night in a jail. I would have to take her into my room with me. Even if it was only for a few days. Then I would send Joan home and get on my way to London.

But how I would hide my pregnancy from her, and avoid being dragged home to have the baby and live with Ma and Da for the rest of my days, I did not know.

I took Joan back to the River Inn and she was welcomed into the bosom of the place, for no one knew my history with her and they thought her a devoted sister indeed who had come to join me. Joan gave Mrs Baxter one of her shillings and that was her booked in for the week, and I was determined she would be on her way back up the road after that. I knew Ma’s motives – Joan’s too – were not for my welfare, but because they needed to show everyone that I was safely returned. I hadn’t thought it through, hadn’t really cared about the consequences of my running away. But they had been severe.

Joan did not take to life at the River Inn as I had. She did not like the rough edge of the men in the parlour, for they leered at her in a way she had not been leered at before, and far more than they leered at me. Back home, Da’s reputation ensured that local lads did not really mess us about. Here, we were only really under the protection of the Baxters. And the patrons were not handsome charmers like Spencer. They were men of the road, some of them running from gambling debts or the law, and others desperate for the sight of a woman.

Joan would spend her days aimlessly wandering the market, coming back talking of lengths of cotton chintz, candlesticks, china cups and buttons, but only in a half-hearted way, as she knew she had no hope of affording such goods. Ma’s shillings were emergency monies, not to be frittered.

I did not give her a glimpse of the key around my neck or make any mention of the locked drawer that stood between our beds. I did not quite trust my own sister not to bolt with my savings, back home or to London, or anywhere.