‘That’s no problem at all,’ Holly assured her. ‘Make it even later than that if you need to. I know how to use the till now and I know where everything is so I’ll be fine.’

‘That is a weight off my mind, dear, thank you so much.’ Miss May finished her tea and rose reluctantly. ‘Well, I really ought to be off, my husband will be wondering where I’ve got to,’ she told them. ‘Although I must admit I could quite happily sit here by your fire all night. It’s so cosy up here.’

Miss May left feeling a lot happier than when she had arrived and Holly glowed with pride at the trust she had placed in her.

‘I reckon we’ve really dropped on us feet here,’ Ivy sighed happily as she sipped at her second cup of tea. And Holly could only agree with her.

The arrangement worked well. Each day Holly made sure she had opened the shop in time for the seamstresses to arrive and then she would attend to customers who came in, or tidy up until Miss May arrived.

The two seamstresses were both London born and bred and Holly got on well with them. Dora Brindley was a huge, motherly woman who came from Whitechapel and Enid Weston was her complete opposite, tiny and birdlike who proudly informed Holly that she had been born within the sound of Bow Bells.

‘My friend works in Bow,’ Holly informed her one morning as Dora was setting her sewing machine up ready to start work. ‘At the Bryant and May match factory.’

‘Hmm, well she’d do well to look for another job,’ Dora warned. ‘It ain’t a good place to work long-term. All that phosphorus they have to work with affects their health in the end. A very good friend o’ mine died from phossy jaw from workin’ there and it weren’t a pretty sight, I don’t mind tellin’ you.’

Holly nibbled her lip anxiously as she returned to the shop and turned the sign on the door to ‘Open’. Perhaps she should have a word with Ivy about it. She couldn’t bear to think of anything like that happening to her.

When she raised the subject that evening Ivy’s reaction was far from what she would have expected.

‘I’ve been thinkin’ much the same meself,’ Ivy admitted. ‘Some o’ the poor women I work with have gripin’ toothache and loads of ’em suffer from abscesses an’ all. Still, the job is better than nothin’ for now but don’t worry, when we have a bit behind us, I’ll look around for some other job. There’s bound to be somethin’ goin’.’

The following day the bell above the shop door tinkled and a rather stout lady in a very heavily plumed hat breezed in.

‘Ah, Lady Hamilton.’ Miss May scooted forward to greet her, pulling out a chair, and glancing through the window Holly saw a chauffeured automobile standing at the kerb.