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beaming a welcome.
    ‘You must be the Ryans? I’ve got ’key for you, though there’s no need for doors to be locked around here. Come on in, luv.’ The woman turned towards the corner
house, leading the way. ‘You’re younger than I imagined, but we’re all neighbourly in this court. My name’s Bess Dugdale, by the way.’
    ‘I’m Emily. My mother’llbe here in a moment. She’s just helping my father out of the van.’
    The woman looked back at her with startled eyes. ‘Oh, I see. I thought . . . Ah, well, ne’er mind what I thought. You come on in and have a look round. Me and my daughter, Lizzie,
have cleaned it through for you coming. Rough lot, they were, that’s just moved out. They’d left it in a right state, I don’t mind telling you.’

    ‘That’s very kind of you, Mrs Dugdale. Thank you.’
    She saw the woman’s glance go beyond her to the entrance to the alleyway and turned to see her mother and Josh coming towards them supporting Walter between them. He walked with a
shambling gait, his head nodding, his hands shaking. Emily heard the woman’s sharp intake of breath. ‘Aw, poor feller,’ she murmured. ‘The war, was it?’
    ‘Yes,’ Emily said quietly.
    ‘Aye, well, all of us around here know what that’s caused. You’ll not be on your own, lass. Mrs Nicholson in t’house over there –’ Bess Dugdale nodded to the
house in the opposite corner to the one where the Ryans were to make their home – ‘lost her husband and two sons to the war. There’s only her youngest left now. Billy. He works at
Waterfall’s cutlery works.So does she, as a matter of fact. She’s the buffer missus in charge of about twenty girls and my Lizzie’s one of ’em. And then there’s poor
Rosa Jacklin next door to her. She lost her hubby and she’s been left with two little kiddies. So, you don’t need to tell us about ’war, an’ if you want a bit of help
–’ she nodded towards the threesome making their way carefully across the cobbled yard– ‘you only have to holler.’
    From one of the taller buildings opposite came a rhythmic tapping sound.
    ‘What’s the noise?’ Emily asked.
    Bess smiled. ‘You’ll get used to it. These courts and the streets all around here are a mixture of houses and little workshops. The noise you can hear is Mr Farrell. He’s a
file maker. I work alongside him.’ Now she laughed and shook her dirty apron.‘I don’t allus look like this, luv. You wait till you see me in my best bib and tucker on a
Sunday.’
    Emily turned to Martha as her mother joined them. ‘Mam, this is Mrs Dugdale. She lives next door and has the key for us, though,’ Emily added with a grin, ‘she says
there’s no need for locked doors around here.’
    ‘Well, we’ll see about that. Let’s get your father inside. Josh, go andhelp Mr Rivers unload the van. Bring your father’s rocking chair off first. Emily, see if you can
light a fire and get the kettle going.’
    ‘No need, luv,’ Bess said. ‘I’ve already lit one. I knew you was coming today and I’ve the kettle on the hob. There’ll be a cuppa ready for you in two
shakes.’
    Martha blinked and stared at the woman for a moment. Then, seeming to think quickly –and Emily knew exactly what she was thinking – Martha smiled at her new neighbour. ‘Now,
that’s really kind of you, thank you. Sorry, if I was a bit sharp, but . . .’ She gestured towards her husband, who was leaning heavily against her and gasping for breath.
    ‘I can see, luv. Come on, let’s get him inside and settled near the fire.’ As the woman led the way, Emily whispered in her mother’sear. ‘Mrs Dugdale and her
daughter have cleaned the house for us, Mam. Evidently, it was left in a right state by the previous tenants.’
    Martha raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
    ‘Better a friend than an enemy, eh, Mam?’ Without waiting for an answer, Emily marched across the yard to help unload their belongings, knowing she was