‘I didn’t. I’ll have to go back but …’ She turned and gave me a strange smile. I didn’t know what it meant but Mrs Bradley did because she sat back in her chair and gave a doleful sigh. She looked old then, older than my mother, but at that time she would only have been about twenty-seven or so.

‘Eustace,’ she called out and a scruffy-looking black-haired boy came in. ‘Take little Zillah outside to play, will you?’ she asked him.

I didn’t want to go but my mother gave me an encouraging push and I followed him outside to the bit of scrub that passed as a back garden. As we closed the door behind us, I heard my mother say, ‘Hannah, you must help me.’

I wanted to know with what and hung back for a second.

‘Aren’t you going to come and play?’ Eustace said. ‘I’ve got some marbles I found the other day.’

This was treasure, indeed – a toy and someone to play with. I looked back behind me and could see that Mrs Bradley had pulled over her chair and now she and my mother were sitting side by side. I knew they were going to have a private conversation but, even if I couldn’t understand it, I wanted to know what they said.

‘You can have first turn,’ Eustace said.

He pressed a clay marble into my hand. Its surface was smooth and brown and speckled like a bird’s egg. I looked from him to my mother and back again. Mrs Bradley – Hannah – was holding her hand now. I wasn’t wanted in the house. Mama had told me to go and play and so I followed Eustace for a game or two.

It was getting dark when my mother called me back in. She stood at the back door with the light shining behind her like a halo. I went in reluctantly. I’d been enjoying myself with my new friend and wanted to tell Mama all about it, but her face looked grave and suddenly I was scared. She’d put her hat and coat back on and I scrabbled in my pocket for the gloves I’d discarded during my play with Eustace.

‘No, Zillah. You’re going to stay here with Mama’s friend. You had a nice time with Eustace today, didn’t you? You can play together every day if you stay here, what about that?’

Her voice was bright but brittle. It was the tone she used on the rare occasions when the mistress asked her how she did, but never before had she used it with me. Going and leaving me behind? She couldn’t mean it. I tried to take her hand but she drew it back out of my reach.

‘I’m ready to go now, Mama,’ I said.