‘If you’ll stay here with Mother, I’ll try and get back so you can go looking for her, though I’m not sure I’ll be helping because you can’t do any more than is already being done.’

‘Thanks. There’s always the chance Ruthie might make her way back home to King Street, so if you really can get away to stay with your mam till Harry gets back, I’ll go and wait for her there.’

When Fay had gone, Bridget went to the front parlour and sat by the window. ‘Please, God,’ she prayed, ‘bring Ruthie home safe.’

Dressed in drab grey uniforms, the children stood in a line.

The matron sat at the desk, pen in hand and the great red ledger open before her. ‘Send them down one at a time,’ she instructed Fay. ‘Make sure they have their hands at their sides and their heads up.’

‘Do as she says,’ Fay told them kindly, ‘and I think I might be able to find you an extra ladle of porridge for breakfast.’ In fact, she treated all the children the same, and they all had enough porridge to keep them satisfied till dinner time.

Matron’s voice sailed through the room. ‘Name?’

‘Maisie.’ The child was trembling in her shoes.

‘Ma’am! Remember who you are speaking to, child.’

‘Maisie… ma’am.’

‘Maisie who?’

‘Just Maisie… ma’am.’

‘Wait over there. Next!’

Each child took less than a minute and soon it was the turn of the last boy in line. ‘Remember to say ma’am,’ Fay reminded him.

‘What’s your name, boy? Speak up.’

In a proud but shaking voice he answered, ‘Billy Higgins, ma’am, and me mam shouldn’t be in jail ’cause she ain’t done nuthin’ wrong.’

Matron was speechless at such effrontery. She sucked in her breath to give him a blast but Fay quickly intervened and ushered him and the other children out of the hall and along to the dormitory.

She showed the children to their beds and then took Billy aside. Fay could see he had been crying. ‘What’s your mammy’s name, Billy?’

‘She never killed nobody.’

‘Is she called Fanny?’

Billy nodded. ‘I want to see her.’

‘You can’t see her yet, Billy. I’m sorry.’

‘Well, can I see Bridget?’ he asked tearfully. ‘She’ll know what to do.’

Now there was no doubt in Fay’s mind. ‘Do you mean Bridget Mulligan?’

Hope lit his eyes. ‘Yeah, Bridget Mulligan. She’ll tell ’em my mam never done nuthin’ wrong.’

‘They won’t let you see anybody just now, Billy,’ she said sorrowfully, ‘but I’ll let her know what’s happened.’

‘Promise?’

She nodded. ‘Meanwhile, you just do as you’re told. Don’t break any of Matron’s rules and you’ll come to no harm.’

Increasingly anxious, Bridget remained by the window. Once or twice she ran down the street to the corner and looked about, and when there was no sign of Harry or Joe, she hurried back to the house, checked that the old lady was all right, and resumed her vigil at the window. ‘Come on, Harry,’ she fretted, ‘or I’ll have to come and find you.’