‘Thank you both, but it was just a slight dizzy spell. I’m fine now.’ Rosalind smiled and made her way to Meggie’s sofa, which she remembered of old. It was still as uncomfortable as ever, but she needed to sit for a while. She held her hand out to the boy, who was shivering in a corner. ‘That man has gone. He won’t bother you again.’

Nancy patted him on the shoulder. ‘The missis is very kind. She took me in and look at me now. Maybe she’ll keep you as well.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ Meggie said hastily. ‘Don’t give the poor boy ideas, Nancy.’

‘I won’t go back to old Hodges.’ The boy spoke for the first time, his large brown eyes filling with tears. ‘I’ll throw myself in the river first. That’s where I was going.’

Rosalind jumped to her feet, forgetting everything other than the need to reassure the frightened child. She wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the sooty marks it left on her gown. ‘You will come home with us, of course. I’ve no intention of abandoning you, but you could do with the application of some soap and hot water.’ She glanced at Meggie. ‘I’m sorry, I know I’ve put this upon you, but could you put the kettle on? I can’t take him home in this state.’

‘Of course, Mrs Blanchard.’ Meggie beckoned to Nancy. ‘Come into the kitchen and you can help me. We’ll make a pot of tea while we’re heating water to wash the climbing boy.’

Nancy followed her eagerly. ‘I know how to make tea. Cook showed me.’

‘Now then, boy,’ Rosalind said gently. ‘I can’t keep calling you that. Will you tell me your name?’

‘It’s Tommy.’

‘Have you another name, Tommy?’

‘It’s Trimble, missis.’

‘Do you know how old you are?’

‘I think I’m eight or nine. Am I going to work for you, missis?’

‘No, Tommy. Well, maybe when you’re fit enough you could help Gurney in the stables or something of the sort, but first of all we’re going to get some of that soot off you, and put salve on those dreadful burns on your poor feet and legs.’ She led him into the kitchen where Meggie was busy making tea and Nancy was attempting to entertain Meggie’s little girls.

Meggie poured boiling water into the teapot. ‘There’s enough water left to wash off some of that dirt, Mrs Blanchard. I always keep the kettle simmering on the hob, but he’ll need several hot baths to get the soot from his skin.’ She emptied the contents of the kettle into an enamel bowl. ‘There’s soap in the dish and a jug of cold water on the windowsill.’