‘We get it up on the moors but not so much at sea level,’ Amber answered, thinking how different Daisy looked out of her uniform. ‘Where are we going?

‘I thought I’d take you into the city to see the shops,’ Daisy answered good-naturedly. ‘Although most of ’em will be shut o’ course, wiv it bein’ a Sunday. Still, we can ’ave a look in the winders.’

Amber was lost in seconds as they moved on, although Daisy seemed to know the whole place like the back of her hand.

‘This is Oxford Street,’ Daisy informed her eventually as they turned into a street that seemed to stretch for miles. There were shops all the way down on either side and Amber was shocked. She had never seen so many all at once in her life. There were huge department stores with beautiful mannequins in the windows modelling everything from day dresses to evening gowns, shoes, bags and all manner of things, and dotted in between were jewellers’ shops displaying rings, bracelets and necklaces set with jewels in all the colours of the rainbow. Apart from a few people who were window shopping like her and Amber, the street was surprisingly quiet.

‘Crikey, we only ’ave one dress shop in Whitby,’ Amber told her. ‘An’ it ain’t a quarter as big as any o’ these.’

They strolled on for quite a while till eventually Daisy asked, ‘There’s a coffee shop ’ere that’s open, look. Shall we treat usselves to a cup o’ tea and a slice o’ cake?’

‘Why not?’ Amber found that she was quite enjoying herself and soon they were seated at a table in the window. A little maid came to take their order and they spent another pleasant half an hour chatting and enjoying themselves. The light was beginning to fade by that time, so reluctantly Amber told her, ‘I think we should be heading back now. I don’t want to get into Mrs Temple’s bad books.’

As they left the café and began to walk back the way they had come, Daisy asked curiously, ‘So ’ave you got a boyfriend back ’ome?’ She’d noticed a sad look in Amber’s eyes on many occasions and wondered if it was perhaps because she was missing a sweetheart she’d left behind. But before Amber could answer, a man dressed in little more than rags with straggly dirty hair ambled towards them with his hand outstretched pleading, ‘Spare a penny or two fer a poor ’omeless bloke, ladies?’

He reminded Amber of Trampy Ned, an old man who lived in and around Whitby, and she began to delve into her bag, but Daisy put her hand out to stop her and told him smartly, ‘N,o we ain’t. Now be on yer way else I’ll call a copper, matey!’