They’d only been in bed a little while – since Archie and Jack had escorted them back to their room, once they were all satisfied that the rioters had packed it in for the night – but sleep was out of the question and she was far too agitated to lie there staring up at the cracks in the ceiling. No matter how she tried she just couldn’t stop fretting about how far last night’s rioting might have spread and whether Polly had been in danger. Then there was the worry of what on earth use Jack and Archie would be in keeping Albert away from her, and then, from sheer desperation, she began to wonder if she shouldn’t just pack it all in, go and get her little girl, clear off somewhere where nobody knew them and just wait and see what happened next. Unfortunately, she had a very good idea what would happen next: near starvation, then the workhouse. She stepped into the dress that she’d tossed over the chair only a few hours before, twisted her thick blonde curls into a tight knot and pinned it neatly at the back of her neck.
