‘Mildred, and no. We’d only seen each other a couple of times and she wanted to invite me to Sunday tea with her mam an’ da.’ He had seen Mildred more than that as it happened, and the last time they’d walked out he’d had her on the bank at the back of the engine works near South Rocks. He’d lost interest after that.

David shook his head. ‘Poor lass. Another one who’ll be crying into her pillow over your ugly mug then.’

Nathaniel glanced at his friend, grinning at the backhanded compliment to his good looks as his gaze ran over David’s short stocky body and rough features. He knew Davey had never minded him getting all the lassies and he didn’t understand that either.

The men’s conversation had been conducted at the top of their voices; from when the buzzer sounded at seven-thirty in the morning all hell was let loose. Riveters, caulkers and others working on their respective jobs meant the noise was deafening, but neither David nor Nathaniel noticed the din any more, not after six years of it. At nineteen years of age they were hardened veterans.

In the next moment the dinnertime buzzer cut off the noise like magic. Men downed tools and made for the canteen, pushing and shoving and laughing as they went. David and Nathaniel had a system which worked well. David would collect two bowls of soup and two puddings and make his way to one of the tables to save them seats. Nathaniel would join the longer queue for the main dinners. These were served out of large boiler-like containers – one for the meat, one for the vegetables, and potatoes from a third, with gravy being poured out at the end of the line onto each meal from a massive tin jug held by Ada, the supervisor of the canteen and something of a dragon.

A couple of men nicknamed the ‘sand dancers’ were standing in front of Nathaniel when he joined the queue. With Bartram’s being situated in an exposed position on the south dock, sand was brought in by the tide each day and the sand dancers had to shovel it away. It was an unrelenting and back-breaking task. One of the men turned and glanced behind him, and seeing Nathaniel, nodded to him, saying, ‘Hey, Nat, how’re you doing?’

Nathaniel nodded back. ‘Fair, Terry. Fair.’