Making a hasty decision she raised her chin and self-consciously smoothed her skirt. She would enter by the front door – if she was admitted, that was – she was family after all. Taking a deep breath, she climbed the steps and raised the brass knocker and seconds later she heard footsteps beyond the door and it inched open. She found herself staring into the face of a woman who looked to be in her late forties to early fifties and she supposed that this must be the housekeeper that her mother had told her worked for her uncle.

‘Good afternoon.’ Amber gave the woman a polite smile. ‘I am here to see my uncle, Mr Jeremiah Harding.’

The woman looked her up and down, seeming mildly surprised. She noted the girl was shabbily dressed but spotlessly clean. ‘I’m afraid Mr Harding is at work. I am his housekeeper, Mrs Carter.’ She was tall and slim and although she was no longer young, Amber thought she was still attractive, or at least she could have been if her clothes and her hairstyle weren’t quite so severe. She was dressed in a black alpaca gown with no trimmings whatsoever and her dark hair was peppered lightly with grey at the temples and pulled tightly into an unbecoming knot in the nape of her neck, but even so her eyes were a striking shade of blue and her skin was smooth.

‘Oh!’ Amber gulped. ‘Could you tell me what time he’ll be home?’

‘The shop shuts at five thirty and he’ll be home at six o’clock on the dot. Mr Harding is a creature of habit.’ Seeing the look of disappointment on Amber’s face she opened the door a little wider and invited, ‘Won’t you come in for a moment.’

‘Ta very much, missus.’ Amber stepped into a large hallway and gratefully placed her bags on the floor. She was sure they were now twice as heavy as they had been when she started out and her arms were aching from carrying them.

Mrs Carter eyed the young woman curiously. It had been some years since Jeremiah’s sister had visited him and Amber had been little more than a child then, but now she saw that she had turned into an attractive young woman with the most glorious head of hair she had ever seen. ‘Do you wish to see your uncle urgently?’

‘Well, er . . . yes, I suppose I do,’ Amber answered nervously. More than ever, now that she was finally here, she was convinced that this had been a bad idea.

‘Then in that case, why don’t you leave your bags here and go and see him at the shop?’ Mrs Carter suggested not unkindly.

‘But I-I don’t know the way.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that. His shop is in Hope Street and I can draw you a little map. I assume you can read?’