Gus hung his head. ‘Some of the fellows from the ship.’

‘I thought as much. They ought to know better – but that’s sailors for you.’

‘He’s thirsty. He wants a drink of water.’

‘I bet he does! There’s some lemonade on the table over there. Pour him a glass of that.’

The drink was cool, and sweet and sharp at the same time. Gus thought he had never tasted anything as good. He drank it off in one draft and wiped his lips on the back of his hand.

‘Thank you, ma’am. I’m … much obliged.’

She looked at him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. ‘You’re very welcome, Gus. Tell me something, how old are you?’

Gus frowned. He had all but lost count of time since he ran away from the school.

‘Thirteen, ma’am … I think.’

‘That’s very young to be a sailor. How do you come to be on board that ship? Is your father one of the officers, perhaps?

Gus fidgeted. This was getting awkward. ‘No, ma’am. I haven’t got a father.’

‘No father? So, were you apprenticed to someone on the ship?’

‘No, ma’am.’ It seemed there was no way to escape the inquisition, but if he told these people the truth, surely they could not send him back – not from here? ‘I … I stowed away, ma’am. But now I’m part of the crew,’ he added quickly. ‘I’m the cabin boy.’

‘You stowed away? You must have quite a story to tell. When do you have to be back on board, Gus?’

‘Ten o’clock tonight, ma’am.’

‘Then you must have dinner with us. My husband would be interested to meet you. Now, I expect you would like a wash. Victoria, show Gus the bathroom and find him a towel.’

The bathroom frightened Gus. He had never seen anything like it. You pumped a handle and water flowed into a pristine white basin, which could be swivelled over to empty into a bucket underneath, and there was a zinc bathtub with some kind of strange contraption over it that reminded him of the boilers in the ship’s engine room. He sluiced his face and hands quickly and went back into the hallway. Victoria was waiting for him.

‘Come along. My papa is waiting to meet you.’ She took him by the hand. ‘Don’t worry. He’s not going to be angry with you.’

Far from being angry Mr Croft was a genial man, with abundant moustaches and twinkling eyes, and Gus quickly found himself recounting the story of how he had come to be aboard the Shenandoah. He skated over the reason why he had run away, but he was not pressed for any further explanation.

‘You say your father and mother both died. So who brought you up?’

‘I grew up in the workhouse.’

‘You poor boy!’ was Mrs Croft’s reaction and Victoria looked at him with tears in her eyes.

‘It must be horrible growing up with no mother or father.’