When she paid her bill at the desk a few minutes later, the server handed her a brown paper bag with a yellow book visible inside. ‘The manager found you a copy’.

‘This looks rather clandestine,’ she said.

‘There is much that is hidden in this world,’ he replied enigmatically. ‘I do hope you find it useful. And although you think I would be giving away our secrets, please ask me anything at all if the information within is unclear.’

Ursula put the book into her bag and stepped outside onto the street. It was a bright February afternoon, but with no discernible warmth. Her head was full of the conversation she had just had. Should she be reading the newspaper more thoroughly? And where was the nearest dry goods store that would be able to supply her with a pound of sago?

She paused as she left the café, and prepared to turn to the left, back down towards Princes Street and the tram home. But on the spur of the moment, she changed her mind, turned right and set off towards the Empire Palace Theatre to investigate the price of tickets to see The Great Lafayette.

Chapter 14

Early March 1911

Ursula was unsure about simply turning up at someone’s private residence without an appointment, but short of writing a letter in advance there seemed to be no other way of visiting the young woman who made the bags. She was surprised to find that the street was one she had walked down many times before and yet she had never been aware that there was a business behind the shiny black front door. It was a main door, she noted, not a flat inside a tenement stair, and as she walked up the path she saw a small card in the window. ‘Elizabeth Forrester, seamstress and leatherwork.’

She knocked on the door. It had a less than supremely polished brass handle and she noted that the letterbox could have done with a bit of elbow grease as well. The maid was clearly slacking. From outside, she could hear the sound of the inner door being opened, followed by a clatter. Presumably the keys have been dropped, she thought. She could have sworn there was a curse hanging in the air.

A slight young woman opened the storm door. ‘Yes?’

Ursula introduced herself. ‘I am Mrs Ursula Black. Your name was provided to me by Mrs Mary Young.’ She didn’t get any further.

‘You’ve met Mary! A wonderful supporter of the cause. Do come in.’

Ursula managed to conceal her surprise at the casual greeting, but did as she was asked and waited in the tiled vestibule as the main door was relocked behind her.

‘Just follow me.’ The young woman walked briskly along the corridor that led to the back of the flat. The smell of a cake being baked, or perhaps it was biscuits, escaped from the kitchen.