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scratched his unshaven face.
    ‘How can you continue to live under these circumstances?’ Dr Tapper indicated the filthy mattresses and cockroaches on the walls. ‘You must allow me to help you.’
    ‘I don’t want ’em sent off.’
    ‘But you don’t want your children to suffer the same fate as Polly.’
    The man began to weep. Flora saw Dr Tapper take some coins from his pocket. He pressed them in Mr Riggs’ dirty hand. ‘Buy some food for your family. An officer of the law will call
on you tomorrow.’
    Flora watched as the children clung to their father. All of them had runny noses and dirty faces. They scratched at the lice running over them. It was a miracle, Flora thought, that none of them
showed signs of diphtheria, living as they did in this squalor with no heat or fresh water. The disease thrived in such insanitary conditions.
    ‘What will happen to them?’ Flora asked as she and the doctor climbed back into the trap.
    ‘I shall have to report the case,’ Dr Tapper told her as he picked up the reins. ‘Better the workhouse than a slow death in that miserable slum.’
    Flora thought how lucky she had been. Her fate might have been the same. Flora didn’t know who her parents were or if they had been as poor and unfortunate as Mr Riggs and his family. But
she had been taken to the safety of the convent. Flora would always be grateful to her unknown parents for the precious gift of her life.
    ‘Come, come, my dear, don’t look so down. Their fortunes will improve.’
    ‘And Mr Riggs, what of him?’
    ‘What indeed,’ the doctor said, sighing.
    Flora knew the grieving father’s fortunes would be unpredictable, just like the many hundreds of men who were destitute. She looked at the kindly doctor. The brim of his black felt hat,
damp with rain, hid his eyes and the thoughts reflected in them. He tickled the whip lightly over the pony’s back to encourage a faster speed. He had given money from his own pocket to help
the family – Flora had seen this happen many times before. He cared for his patients beyond the call of duty.
    ‘Pull your cape round you,’ he told her as they clattered through the wet streets. ‘We don’t want you going down with a cold.’
    Flora smiled. He was, to her, the father she had never had. Wilfred must be a very proud son. Flora’s thoughts went back to the children they had just left. If only Hilda could have seen
Mr Riggs and his family. She would have thought herself very lucky to be living in such a fine place as Hailing House.

Chapter Four
    Flora sat alone in her small room after cleaning it, and herself, thoroughly. She was glad they had reached the end of this exhausting day; the undertakers had been called to
perform their duties and Polly’s death reported to the authorities. The only light was from the gas lamp, spreading over the scrubbed surfaces.
    Flora sighed, trying to find the strength to stand up. When she and Dr Tapper had returned from their visit to Mr Riggs and his family, there had been patients waiting. Among them were more
wounded men from the Western Front. Some had obvious physical injuries, but others were suffering mentally. She had seen one man weeping, unable to stop the shivering and shaking that racked his
whole body. Another soldier had been brought in by his elderly mother. He had lost the power of speech, his face twisted by a grimace, as though he was haunted by the harrowing memories he must
carry with him.
    ‘Flora?’
    She jumped to her feet, surprised to see the doctor standing there.
    ‘You must go now, it’s past eight o’clock.’
    Flora tried to smile, pushing her straying blonde locks under her white cap. It was an effort even to part her lips.
    ‘I shall be on time in the morning,’ he told her. ‘Unfortunately, I had some rather bad news today.’ He shook his head slowly, loosening the untidy thatch of grey hair,
so that a lock fell across his forehead. ‘I sent Mrs Carver home, since a letter came