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further orders.
    ‘You will make yourself available whenever I call for you, at whatever hour. I may find us somewhere more comfortable than this small vehicle, but you will do as I ask, without question. Understood?’
    I stared at him in horrified disbelief. Perhaps I had thought this violation was some act of revenge on his part for my resistance over the long months he had pursued me. Now I saw that it was but a prelude to a more devastating plan.
    ‘What is it you want from me?’ I asked, my voice cracking beneath the strain of what I had just endured.
    ‘Whatever takes my fancy, and I rather fancy you, Miss Francis.’ His emphasis on the ‘Miss’ was most derogatory. It implied that I was no more than a woman of the streets. ‘If you value your job, you will come when I say, without question. Oh, and I will reduce the debt by – um, shall we say five pounds for this night’s service, less interest?’ And with a final leer he drove off into the night, leaving me shivering with shock on the cobbles.
    I made sure that neither Mama nor Hester were ever told of what had occurred that night. Where was the point in upsetting them, I thought. We were stuck here at Smock Alley, at least for the length of my contract. Years of servitude to Daly’s every whim stretched ahead and I shuddered at the prospect, my mind desperately seeking some way of release. Yet what escape could there be? If I walked away Daly could sue me, and my family would starve.
    Later that day I spoke to him, quite cold and matter-of-fact, as if we were discussing a business meeting. ‘I will do as you ask, since I have no choice in the matter, but I would be obliged if you refrained from using Hester as a go-between. I have no wish for my family to be privy to this affair, or whatever you choose to call it.’
    ‘I was thinking much the same myself,’ he casually remarked. ‘I have no wish for my wife to hear of our little arrangement either, so I’ll find us a room in an hotel next time. I will let you know the day and time.’
    And so began our ‘affair’, our ‘little arrangement’ as he termed it. Twice a week throughout that endless winter, he would take me to some seedy little hotel down by the quay. It stank of sewage and fish, and stale sweat, and I could hear odd little rustling sounds behind the wainscot. He would instantly strip to his under-drawers then order me to do the same while he watched. I always kept my eyes averted, not wishing to look at him, shivering as I peeled off my chemise, sick to my stomach with loathing. So much so that afterwards I would often physically vomit into the chamber pot. This always amused him, calling me his fragile little flower.
    ‘Are you sickening for something?’ Mama asked me one day in spring. ‘You seem oddly quiet and paler than usual. Where have your rosy cheeks gone, my dear?’ And she patted them in that gentle motherly way.
    I managed a smile to reassure her. Mama herself had been unwell for some time, and I had no wish to add to her worries, and thereby risk making her worse. ‘I am simply tired with doing two, sometimes three plays a week. My head spins at times trying to remember all the lines.’ How could I tell her the true cause of my distraction?
    ‘Nonsense, you have a wonderful facility for learning. You are far more likely to forget to eat properly than not study your part.’
    ‘I confess I actually dried in the farce at the matinee today; my mind had gone a complete blank. It was alarming.’
    She frowned. ‘That is most unlike you, Dolly. I shall coddle some eggs and stand over you while you eat them. And tonight I shall have Scotch broth waiting for your supper.’
    But no amount of coddled eggs or Mama’s delicious Scotch broth was going to heal this sickness. I had not seen my monthly courses for some weeks now, and much as I might deny the fact, I knew, with a horrified certainty, that I was pregnant. Was I not familiar enough with the symptoms, having