She had never heard of Consett but had replied that she was on her way there and would be very grateful for a ride in the cart. He’d moved a few sacks and boxes to make a space for them and they’d been on their way again. Betsy had fallen asleep almost immediately, lulled by the rocking of the cart, and Rose had soon found that Eustace – as he’d introduced himself – was a gregarious sort of fellow who could talk the hind leg off a donkey. Once she’d told him she was going to stay with friends but had never been to Consett before, he’d been delighted to relate the merits of his birthplace to a captive audience.

‘Nowt but a backwater, Consett was, when I was a nipper,’ he had told her, ‘but now we’re a thriving town with a steelworks that’s the envy of the North. All thanks to one man, I reckon, and that’s William Jenkins. He took over the Consett Iron Company some thirty-five years ago now, and it was him that turned it around. He was a force to be reckoned with, was old Jenkins, and not scared to stick his neck out, unlike some. He was forward-thinking, you see, that’s the thing, and more than that he was for the workers. You won’t hear a bad word said about him in Consett, God rest his soul. Looked after his men, he did, and it made for a happy workplace. Course, you still get the housewives complaining about the red dust from the works that gets into every nook and cranny, my missus included, but like I say to her, it’s that red dust that puts food on the table and clothes on folk’s backs. I’m right, aren’t I? Eh, lass? Aye, I’m right.’

The question was rhetorical. The old man didn’t want an answer, just someone to listen. Rose was more than happy to do that. Everything she could learn about Consett before she arrived, the better.

‘Happiest days of my life when I worked for Mr Jenkins, I tell you, but a steelworks isn’t the place for old men, more’s the pity. Eighty, I’ll be, come Christmas, can you believe that?’

Rose said no, she couldn’t believe it, and then listened again as he nattered on. ‘Grand town hall we’ve got on the corner of Middle and Front Street, holds a thousand people, and there’s the Cooperative Hall an’ all, and some fine shops and eating places. Seen ’em all come in my time. We were just a little village on the hillside, miles from the sea, but now there’s umpteen churches and schools and the like, and the town’s growing all the time. A body could do worse than settle in Consett, take it from me.’