‘Better to let the air get to it,’ she said.

He nodded mute agreement. The deep, livid gouges covered the boy’s back, with only a few patches of uninjured skin pinkly shining in the mess. The poor fellow looked like a pummelled piece of meat on a butcher’s slab.

Gunson walked around the bed, half-hoping he would find the boy sleeping, but he lay awake, staring at the wall. He turned his gaze on Gunson as he arranged his coat-tails to sit self-consciously on a chair hurriedly carried over by the same nurse who had prevented him from covering the boy’s wounds.

He coughed, unsure how to start.

The boy spoke first. ‘When d’you reckon I’ll be out of ’ere?’

His voice was faint and came from lips that were still cracked from the fever he’d endured.

‘Tomorrow, I’m told,’ Gunson said, and smiled as encouragingly as he could. It wasn’t returned. ‘You’ll be coming to stay at my home and…’

‘Tha’s not the doctor?’

‘Ah, I’m John Gunson. Mr Webster has arranged for you to…’

‘Aye, I know. I’m to work under thee.’ He coughed and his voice was stronger when he spoke again. ‘A remarkable opportunity for the likes o’ me, eh?’

Gunson smiled again, recognising Webster’s patronising tones.

‘You have met Mrs Gunson. My wife thinks that we can help you to, er, find a better path, one that won’t cross with those that may still wish you harm.’ He hurried on when Silas’s eyes widened in fear. ‘Not that I believe anybody does, now that you have had your… well, it’s best to keep a low profile. That’s all I shall say about that.’

‘All right.’ The boy shrugged his shoulder and winced. ‘I were set on a steelworks, but I’ve been labourin’ since the flood. I were in a forge when it…’ He stopped and gulped. Gunson fought back the urge to stroke his hair. This boy wasn’t his son; he was a stranger being offered an opportunity to turn over a new leaf. ‘I came to town the same day as that dam burst. Bad luck to me, eh?’

‘Bad luck for us all,’ said Gunson. It would be best to adopt a brisk tone, to encourage the boy out of his funk. ‘But there is work to be done. The thirst of the town is no less.’ He paused, but it seemed there were to be no more interruptions. The boy was looking at him, neutrally, but a nerve jumped rhythmically in his cheek. ‘Perhaps you’ll help me sate that thirst. We’ve collected your possessions from the King’s Arms and you shall take our housekeeper’s room. She has moved in with her daughter since the flood. It will please my wife to have an extra pair of hands to help. We have a cook, and a maid of all work, and a stable boy who I think is about your age. How old are you?’

‘Nearly nineteen.’

‘Ah, good, good. I could use a driver to run errands for my wife. If I need to be anywhere I prefer to drive myself. It’s been agreed you’ll learn engineering, a fine profession.’