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moment, a warning if things didn’t go all right; but Ellie was ready for him.

‘I don’t want you interfering in our lives,’ she said sharply. ‘There was no sign of you when we needed you most, you and Dad—’

‘That wasn’t my fault, Ellie,’ he cut in. ‘I wasn’t to know he’d walked off. You can’t blame me.’

‘I don’t blame you,’ she said. ‘But I’d rather sort me own life out, that’s all.’

There was more to it than that. Her brother at nineteen was so like his dad, and today she had seen that resemblance in its full force. One day, as far as she could see, he would be like Dad in every respect: selfish, overbearing, violent. There was already hate in her heart towards her father, and a need to avenge herself as well as Mum. She didn’t want to feel the same way about Charlie. The further he was away from her, the better.

‘I’m glad you come,’ she said, drawing up her thin frame with dignity. ‘But me and Dora are all right.’

He was fidgeting awkwardly. ‘I’ll be off then. I’ll keep in touch, let yer know where I am time to time. I can’t tell yer ’ow upset I feel about Mum. I can ’ardly believe she’s gone, it’s such an ’orrible shock. She was such an ’ard worker and an ’elp to all of us. I’m goin’ ter miss her terribly – straight I am.’

‘Yes,’ she said, flat-voiced. He could be as upset as he liked.

‘Orright,’ he said, and bending his six-foot frame took hold of Dora, who’d let go of him, and kissed her on the top of her head. He made to do the same with Ellie, but she moved quickly away.

He straightened up, looking slightly offended, not understanding why she was being so cold towards him.

‘Cheerio then,’ he said gruffly and, receiving her stiff response, allowed himself to be let out of the main door, a sobered, dejected man.

Where he went Ellie had no idea. He had asked where Mum’s grave was and she’d told him, but when asked where he was staying, all he had said was, ‘Around.’

It gave the impression that it could be ages before she’d set eyes on him again. So what? Dad was her real quarry. One day she would catch up with him and make his life an eternal misery. She didn’t know how, but she would think of something when finally she found him.

One thing she did know: by the time she did find their father, she’d be a lady. She had already decided upon that as she went back to her kitchen duties, Dora going back upstairs with Mrs Lowe, and Doctor Lowe returning to his surgery.

Whether it was to do with Charlie’s belligerent attitude to her being a mere scullery maid or not, the following afternoon young Florrie came into the kitchen while she was up to her eyes in rapidly cooling washing-up water and spoke in whispers to Mrs Jenkins.

Next thing Ellie heard was Cook’s strident voice. ‘Ellie, leave that, love. You’re wanted upstairs. The master wishes to have a quick word with you. He’s in his study. You know where that is?’

‘No,’ Ellie admitted. The only part of the house she knew was up the back stairs to the attic where she slept. Dora had seen more of the place than her. ‘Where is his study?’

‘Up the main stairs, turn right along the landing and it’s the far door. Make sure to knock and wait to be called in. Understand that, girl? Don’t go in until you’re told to.’

‘What’s he want?’ Ellie enquired.

‘Never mind what he wants,’ Cook said sharply. ‘Get your apron off, wipe your hands thoroughly, take off your cap and tidy your hair, and then get straight up there. Hurry up now.’

Doing as she was told, her long hair, now released from its mob cap, tied neatly back with a bit of ribbon she kept in her skirt pocket, Ellie mounted the stairs, each step slower than the last, each with growing trepidation.

What did her employer want? Was it to tell her that her services were no longer needed? It could only be that after the way Charlie had behaved. And what about Dora? Did he intend to sack her too? After so short a time here would he even give them a reference? And where would they find work, two young girls with no skills? Even washing-up jobs like she’d been doing weren’t easy to come by.

One question after another ran through her mind with each reluctant step. By the time she was outside the study door, at the dim end of the passage, her heart was thumping enough to make her feel sick. How was she going to break the news to Dora?

Well, this was it. If she was going to be given her marching orders, then she’d refuse to demean herself by hesitantly tapping, creeping in to hang her head and bob a curtsey. If she was to be told to go, then Doctor Lowe would see her as life had conditioned her, holding her head up and giving as good as she got.

She rapped on the door with her knuckles, louder perhaps than she had intended. For a moment there was silence, then Doctor Lowe’s voice sounded, requesting she come in. Responding, she closed the door behind her and walked up to his desk. She was surprised to see that he was smiling up at her. Oh well, she thought, it’s going to be done in good grace at least.

For all that, an apology was called for. ‘I’m sorry me brother was so rude,’ she began, hardly having reached the desk. ‘He was just worried—’

‘No need to apologize,’ Doctor Lowe cut in with a brief lift of his hand. He was still smiling. Why was he smiling if he was about to dismiss her?

‘I have asked to see you,’ he hurried on as though her face had given away her thoughts, ‘because I need

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