Mags felt at a loss as to what to say about this, as her new-found status seemed to leave her powerless to do anything to stop it happening, if it was part of Harold’s plan to close the school as well. She made up her mind to tackle these issues with her father, while Harold was away.

Seeing Bill hobble around the corner aroused pity in Mags for those who struggled to eke out a living, and it pained her that this was happening to Betsy and her little family. How different her own and Betsy’s lives had always been, and yet something had drawn them to each other. Mags supposed it was the lack of any female company of her own age when she was at home, and she knew their friendship was unusual. Harold would frown upon it, without a doubt. But on this, she would fight her corner. She needed Betsy in her life. The thought of life without her sent a feeling of dread through her.

‘Eeh, lass, you’ve a lot on your plate. I knaw you’re going through a lot, ’cause of what happened. That man ain’t right for you, and yet I knaw as you can’t help how you feel about him.’

‘I’m afraid for you, Betsy. I – I don’t know if . . . well, if it’s right to keep you on. I mean—’

‘Naw, lass, don’t take me job away from me. I’d never get set on anywhere else, even though I’ve a lot of knowledge of mill work, as lots are laying off workers, not taking them on. You knaws that. Look, I promise as I’ll keep me place. I’ll work at running the house and staff, and not doing the jobs meself. And I’ll not be seen – only by you, when you give me my orders. Mr Roford won’t have need to come to the staff quarters, the kitchen or me office, so nowt will happen again. And while I’m on, my Bill must never find out: promise me that, lass. He’d go spare and . . . well, he ain’t, can’t . . . well, not often; and when he does, it ain’t nowt like it used to be, as he’s in too much pain.’ Betsy looked down at her hands and fidgeted with her skirt. ‘That does sommat to a man, you knaw. Makes him feel inadequate, and jealous of others. I’d be feared he’d start thinking as I went looking for it.’

‘Oh, Betsy, I’m sorry. I promise Bill will never find out. And I need to explain why I think Harold is the way he is. It is down to his mother. She . . .’

When she’d finished telling Betsy the sorry tale of Harold’s upbringing, Mags felt near to tears.

‘Eeh, how can a woman send her own daughter away, and you say as this Flora were only a little lass at the time? Well, I reckon it were down to her ma and da that she had the misfortune to meet and marry her own half-brother. I’ve heard some tales, I can tell you, but what you’ve just told me takes the biscuit. Is that where Harold goes to stay – with his ma?’