Shaking the soot from my hair I allowed the image of her to replay in my mind over and over again. Today was the first time that I had ventured into the Smith girls' bakery but it certainly wouldn't be the last. I knew not her name nor anything about her but her perfect features would never leave my memory. I shook my dark hair to clear it of both soot and of the image of the Smith sister. I could not rid myself of either.

In my client's mirror I caught sight of my reflection. What I saw was a young man staring back at me with green eyes the colour of emeralds and a dirty face; with sweaty hands I rubbed at my chin - smearing large ashy streaks along my jaw.

The family's bachelor escorted me out of the house and handed me both a shilling and a warm roll to take with me. I bade him farewell and embarked on my short journey home; at the first corner that I turned a small figure huddled in a doorway caught my attention. Kneeling down beside the trembling child I handed her the warm roll and gave her a reassuring smile. In that one girl's eyes I saw my own childhood reflected back at me - small, scared and suffering. Only I had always had one thing that she didn't - I had my older brother James. Being the youngest I had always looked up to James and followed everything that he said and did without hesitation. Us Hammond brothers were closer than even the Smith sisters at the bakery.

Stepping through the door of our small home I called for James. There was no reply and so I assumed that he was still in his office downstairs; I resisted the urge to go and speak to him in fear of catching a glimpse of one of the bodies in which he examined. How James coped with the aftermath of the Hangman's work I would never know but I considered myself fortunate that it was his responsibility and not mine. Instead I allowed myself time to go to my room and think of the un-named Smith girl whom had captured both my attention and my heart.