Betsy’s house was one of a row of terraced houses owned by Mags’s father’s mill. When the family had been put out of the mining cottage, on the termination of Bill’s employment following his accident, Mags had persuaded her father that Betsy was entitled to one of their cottages as much as any male worker would be.

The front room of the house led straight off the pavement. Stepping into it gave Mags the feeling that she was in a different world – one where the aroma of freshly baked bread, warmth from the fire, and love permeated every part of the room. It was cosy and comforting.

The pretty yellow-flowered curtains hanging at the small windows didn’t stop the sun’s rays beaming through; instead they formed a frame that enhanced the light shining on the plain but highly polished furniture. A dresser holding china, and a table with a lace cloth draping it, flanked the two rocking chairs, one on each side of the fireplace; and through a door opposite, Mags could see a small kitchen. Bill sat in one of the chairs. He looked embarrassed as he paused in the act of pulling on his long socks. For the first time ever, Mags caught a glimpse of his gammy leg.

‘Hello, Bill. Betsy has just told me your news. Can I give you a lift to the shop?’

‘Ma’am.’ Bill nodded his head. ‘Naw, but thank you kindly. I have to show as I can get there by meself. I’ve been in training, so to speak, and have hobbled along there three times this week. It’s painful on me gammy leg, but I need to do it, despite that.’

‘I wish you all the luck in the world, Bill. But I don’t think you will need it. I’m sure you’ll be taken on, but just in case you’re not, we could do with a further hand in the kitchen from time to time. We need someone to peel the veg and prepare it for Cook, as my husband-to-be is planning on entertaining more than we do now.’

‘I can do that as well as me job at the shop, if I get it, ma’am. I can fit it around that.’

‘That’s settled then. Betsy will know when we need you.’

The smile Bill gave her was thanks enough. But as he stood, his wince of pain alarmed Mags and sent her reeling back to her nursing days.

‘Has a doctor seen you lately, Bill?’

‘Naw. There’s naw spare cash for doctor’s fees.’

‘But surely you can still be seen by the doctor at the mine? After all, your accident happened down the pit.’

‘I was signed off by him a while back, and that’s when I thought to take up some work. Once they sign you off, that’s it.’

The pain that he was in showed in the grimace on his face.

‘Will you let me look at it? I am a nurse, remember. And what I saw just now worried me.’ As Bill sat and rolled up his trouser leg, Mags was filled with sympathy for him. ‘You have an ulcer, Bill. It needs cleaning out and packing with fresh lint every day until it dries and begins to heal. And it looks as though your leg was never set properly. You need to see a surgeon. I can arrange that. Once you are in our employ, you can be looked after by our medical service at the mill.’