‘I see,’ said Rosie, nodding. ‘And how did yer meet Blackie, then?’ She was no longer able to control her avid curiosity.

‘Blackie came to do some work for-for my husband’s grandmother,’ Emma improvised swiftly. ‘He was always kind, doing extra jobs for us, for very little money. He liked the old lady, you see. He also knew she was not long for this world. I had told him that when she died I wanted to come to Leeds to find work. Blackie said I should look him up.’ Emma paused and sipped the lemonade to gain time. She was rather astounded at her aptitude for deception, and also her suavity at telling such a tall tale. On the other hand, she must now continue and make it convincing. ‘Blackie suggested I might find work in one of the new shops, selling finery to the ladies. He thought a well-educated person like me would be useful in a shop. I can also sew and do alterations.’

‘Aye, that’s an idea,’ said Rosie, feeling extremely pleased with herself. She had been right about this girl coming from Quality folk. It had been patently obvious to her all along that Emma could only have met Blackie in his capacity as a workman, doing repairs at her home. Impoverished gentry, that’s what this Emma Harte was. ‘I’ll tell yer what yer should do, luv,’ went on Rosie helpfully. ‘Monday morning, bright and early, pop along ter Briggate. Yer’ll find it easy enough. It’s a big street. There are lots of new shops in them there fancy arcades. Yer might find just the right opening-’ Rosie stopped short. A group of men had entered the pub and were heading towards the bar. She sighed and then smiled kindly at Emma. ‘Sit a while, if yer wants, Emma. But it’s going ter get busy now. I won’t be having much time ter chat with yer, luv.’

‘Thank you, but I had better go and see Mrs Daniel and settle the matter about the room.’ Emma stood up. She smiled brightly. ‘Thank you again, Rosie, for all your help. I appreciate it.’

Rosie nodded. ‘Aay, lass, I’ve done nowt, really. Hey, keep in touch with me, yer hear! Let me know if yer moves from Mrs Daniel’s ’ouse. So as I can tell Blackie where yer are. And pop in and see me, if yer gets lonely, or if yer needs owt else, luv.’

‘Yes, I will, Rosie. Thank you again. Goodbye.’ Emma picked up the suitcase and with another flashing smile she left the pub.

Rosie’s soft doe-like eyes followed her thoughtfully. By gum, I hopes she’s all right, she said to herself. Such a luvely girl. And all alone in the world. It’s a right shame, it is, really. Rosie hoped she would see her again. There was something special about Emma Harte.

Once she was outside the pub Emma studied the paper Rosie had given her, pushed it into her pocket, and set off determinedly to find Mrs Daniel’s house. There were, in actuality, many rooms for rent in the vicinity of the Mucky Duck, but Rosie had purposely selected Mrs Daniel’s boardinghouse for Emma, even though it was much farther away than she had indicated. Rosie had wanted the girl out of this dreadful area of Leeds, for York Road was bordered on all sides by tough neighbourhoods where grown men were not safe, let alone a defenceless girl. And so Rosie’s own fear of the district had reached out like a protective arm to shield Emma.

Most of the streets stretching beyond and away from these devastating slum areas were safe, but they were narrow and ugly, with dark, mean-looking back-to-back houses pressing against each other, a cruel inheritance from the Victorian era, wretched dwellings for the working classes. Emma concentrated on the street names, hurrying as fast as she could, for this great city, full of bustling people, carts and horses, carriages and tram-cars, was confusing and strange to her after the quietness of Fairley village. Yet, conversely, she was not intimidated. However, she did not stop to consider these new and diverse sights, or gaze at them in wonder. Emma occupied herself fundamentally with one problem at a time, and at this very moment her aim was to install herself in a room, find a job, and wait for Blackie’s return, in that order. She dare not think of anything else, and most especially the baby. She kept her eyes ahead but alert, noting the names as she sped along, one hand clutching her reticule in a fierce grip, the other grasping the leather suitcase.

After thirty minutes of fast walking, without a pause for breath, she sighed with relief. There in front of her was the street where Mrs Daniel’s house was located. Rosie’s directions had been explicit. Now, for the first time, Emma stopped and put down the suitcase and pulled the paper from her pocket-Mrs Daniel’s house was number five. This street, too, was dark, with a poverty-stricken air, but Emma cheered considerably when she reached number five. It was a taller house than she had expected, and narrow, wedged in between others, its Victorian walls blackened by factory soot and years of industrial grime. But the lace curtains at the sparkling windows were crisp and white and the door knocker gleamed brightly in the faint afternoon sunlight. The three steps in front of the house had been scrubbed to silvery whiteness over the years and the edges were brilliantly yellow from the scouring stone obviously used daily to outline the worn rims.

Emma practically flew up the steps and banged the brass knocker several times. After a short delay the door was opened. A thin woman with grey hair and a sour expression on her lined and sallow face glared down at Emma.

‘Yes, what do yer want?’ she asked peremptorily.

‘I would like to speak to Mrs Daniel, please?’

‘That’s me,’ said the woman curtly.

The indomitable Emma was neither unnerved nor daunted by the woman’s nasty tone and inhospitable manner. She had to get a room here at all costs. Today. She did not have time to roam Leeds looking any further. And so she smiled her most radiant smile and instinctively adopted a charming manner, one which she herself had not known she possessed until that very instant. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs Daniel. My name is Emma Harte. Rosie from the Mucky Duck sent me to see you. She thought you would be willing to rent a room to me.’

‘I only takes gentlemen boarders,’ snapped Mrs Daniel, ‘less trouble. Besides, I’m full.’

‘Oh, dear me,’ said Emma softly, riveting her enormous eyes on the woman. ‘And Rosie was so sure you would have a room available. Even a small one would do.’ Emma glanced up. ‘It’s quite a large house, isn’t it?’

‘Aye, it is, but me two best bedrooms are let. There’s only the second attic and I never rents that.’

Emma’s heart sank but the smile did not waver. ‘Perhaps you might consider renting that other attic to me, Mrs Daniel. And I certainly wouldn’t be any trouble. Rosie will give me a reference if-’

‘It’s not that,’ the woman interrupted in a snappish tone. ‘I’m full up, as I said.’ She glared at Emma. ‘I can only cope with two lodgers and I’ve got them already.’ She made to close the door.

Emma smiled again, and winsomely. ‘Please, Mrs Daniel, don’t be hasty. It would be a great help to me if you would rent me the attic for a few weeks. Just as long as it is convenient for you. It would give me a chance to find somewhere else. Rosie was so sure you would be obliging. She spoke so well of you and recommended you highly. She told me you ran a clean and proper house, and that I would be safe here. Rosie said you were a good and honest woman.’

Mrs Daniel made no comment, but she was listening intently. ‘You see, I’m not from Leeds,’ Emma rushed on, determined to keep the woman engaged. She also wanted to convince her that she would be no trouble and dispel the apparent hostility the landlady had for women boarders. ‘I was living near Ripon, with my husband’s grandmother, and she died recently.’ Emma noted the look of amazement on Mrs Daniel’s face at the mention of a husband, but before she had a chance to say anything, Emma explained, ‘My husband is in the Royal Navy. On the high seas for six months. I would be grateful if I could stay with you, for only a few weeks. It would give me time to find a place of our own, for when my dear husband comes back on leave.’