Ivy sniffed, ‘Well, as I said it’s only for now. Somethin’ better is bound to be round the corner. But come on, it’s far too cold to stand about round here. I found a little café that’s cheap an’ cheerful nearby.’

Linking her arm through Holly’s she began to haul her along, chattering as she went. When Holly could finally get a word in edgeways she asked, ‘So what job will you be doing exactly?’

Ivy chuckled. ‘I shall be cuttin’ pieces of wood down into match-sized pieces then dippin’ the heads of ’em into red phosphorus, then they go on from me to be packed into boxes.’

‘But I’m sure I read somewhere that working with phosphorus could be dangerous.’

Ivy nodded. ‘White phosphorus can but apparently the red ain’t so bad. One o’ the girls were tellin’ me that a lot o’ the women who used to work wi’ the white stuff developed what they call “phossy jaw” which could be fatal. It would start with severe toothache then their gums would start to swell and their bones would glow greeny white in the dark. After that their minds would go funny and everythin’ would stop workin’. The women all came out on strike some years ago an’ that’s when they changed to red phosphorus, which ain’t quite so dangerous.’

‘I still don’t like the thought of you working somewhere like that,’ Holly said with a frown.

‘Don’t be daft, I’ll be fine,’ Ivy assured her as they came to the doorway of a small café. ‘Here we are. Let’s get some grub, me stomach thinks me throat’s cut.’

As soon as they had eaten they set off again in search of a job for Holly and eventually they branched off Oxford Street into Cavendish Street, one of the side streets. After trying a few more shops they came to one with the sign ‘Miss May’s Modes’ written in gilt letters on a large sign above the door. Beautiful gowns were displayed on mannequins in the window along with a small sign that read, ‘Assistant needed, apply within’.

‘This looks promisin’,’ Ivy chirped. ‘Go on in and give it a go. The worst she can say is no. I’ll wait out here for yer. I don’t wanna come in an’ spoil yer chances.’

Holly took a deep breath and as she entered the shop a small bell above the door tinkled. Seconds later a small, immaculately dressed woman appeared through a curtain behind the counter and smiled at her. Her greying hair was styled into an elegant twist on the back of her head and she had light blue eyes. Although she was now well into middle-age she was still very attractive and Holly imagined that she must have been quite a beauty in her younger days.

‘Good afternoon, miss. How may I help you?’ Her voice had a musical quality to it and Holly gulped nervously.

‘I, er … Actually I came in to enquire about the position in the window.’