Since returning, she had taken a small room in Clerkenwell above the Willnock family shopfront, a small ironmonger on the corner of Woodbridge Street. It was just far enough from the East End that she could relax her paranoia to properly sleep and to not look over her shoulder should she cross the street to the market. It gave her comfort to bide with an ordinary family, people untouched and oblivious to all that had transpired. Life was going on around them, and it would stop for no one.
Mrs Willnock was a sour-faced woman who swept the floors with a constant scowl. She'd lost the two youngest boys to pneumonia the previous winter, and the family had moved on like a well-oiled machine thanks only to her sheer determination. She was curt and no-nonsense, and Tessie appreciated the securit
