‘I just thought I’d pop up and check you’re all right,’ she said cautiously. Holly usually enjoyed her chats with Ivy, and because she had been tutored at home and so never mixed much with people her own age, the maid was the closest thing to a friend Holly had ever had. They were complete opposites in looks for Ivy was short and inclined to be skinny with mousy straight hair and grey eyes, but what she lacked in looks she more than made up for in personality. She often had Holly roaring with laughter as she spoke of her family. She came from a large family – eleven in all – and when she had first started working at the house as a maid at the age of fourteen, she declared she felt as if she had died and gone to heaven. She was paid a pittance and was often expected to work all the hours God sent, but despite that, for the first time in her life she had a room all to herself and regular meals, so she considered herself very lucky.

‘We’re all crammed into a tiny cottage, two-up, two-down in the courtyards in Abbey Street,’ she had once told Holly bitterly. ‘Crammed in like sardines in a bloody tin, we are.’ She had flushed then and apologised for swearing, much to Holly’s amusement. She usually provided a breath of fresh air in her grandfather’s rather formal household, but today Holly wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Holly instantly felt guilty for snapping. None of this was Ivy’s fault after all. She sighed. ‘Sorry, Ivy, I take it you heard what was said, then?’

Ivy nodded vigorously, setting her mop cap dancing as if it had a life of its own. ‘I couldn’t help it, I were polishin’ the hall table an’ I just want to tell yer I think it’s bloody awful what yer gran’-father is proposin’.’

Holly shrugged. ‘Aw well, there’s nothing for it but to meet the chap, I suppose, but don’t get worrying. Before I’ve even met him I can tell you I have no intention of marrying him, whether it upsets Grandfather or not.’

Ivy gave her a smile, then, glancing at the door, she told her, ‘I’d best get on. I’ve just been told to lay the table in the dinin’ room wi’ all the best silver an’ china. Poor old Cook is runnin’ round like a headless chicken tryin’ to get everythin’ ready an’ the mood she’s in I don’t want to go upsettin’ her.’

‘It’s all right, you get on, I’m fine,’ Holly assured her, and once the girl had gone she lifted a book and tried to read. Unfortunately her head was so full of meeting Mr Dolby that all the words kept blurring into one, so eventually she gave up and went to sit by the window. It looked set to be a very long day, and an even longer night.