‘There is a swimming pool out there,’ Nancy added, with a grin. It sounded like a challenge.

‘You’d be surprised how freeing it is, to swim without a bathing suit. There’s quite a sense of liberation,’ Miss Sharp said.

‘You mean, you’ve actually done it?’ Nancy asked, in a hushed tone.

‘You’d be astonished, the difference even a small layer of wool makes.’

Maggie laughed. She could hardly imagine prim and proper Miss Sharp taking off her clothes and jumping into the pool.

‘You wouldn’t though, would you, Cynthia?’ Pam asked again.

But despite their badgering, Miss Sharp wouldn’t give them that assurance. ‘It’s rather too chilly at the moment.’ She held up an elegant finger. ‘But in the spring, who knows?’

‘Heavens, what’s that din?’ Pam asked, when they’d all finally stopped giggling.

‘Sounds like a horn,’ Elsie said. ‘Oh blimey!’ She jumped up. ‘I know what it is! It’s Ray’s bloomin’ air raid drill!’

* * *

‘Give it ’ere, Raymondo,’ Bill said, heaving his bulk out of the armchair and holding out his hand. ‘That wouldn’t summon a mouse.’

Ray had waited until after dinner, when everyone had made themselves scarce, then he’d tilted the hunting horn towards the ceiling, taken a deep breath and blown into it as hard as he could.

It was useless; he’d only managed a pathetic ‘Parp!’

Thank goodness only his chum Bill was here to witness his paltry attempt. Norm and Geoff had disappeared; they were probably outside having a ciggie. The women had filed upstairs to freshen up before they came down to spend the evening listening to the wireless or playing records.

Ray was grateful now that he’d enlisted Bill’s help. Bill played tuba for the Salvation Army; he lifted the horn to his mouth and blew. His cheeks turned redder and rounder – he looked like an overgrown Cupid – and then a loud trumpeting filled the room.

‘Goodo!’ Ray slapped Bill on the shoulder. ‘Walk around! Go on! Out into the hallway, so everyone can hear!’

Ray was checking his pocket watch as the girls filed downstairs, exclaiming crossly and pulling on cardigans. Snowden staff were emerging from the kitchen, wiping hands on aprons. Ray recognised Lord Ashford’s driver striding along the corridor, buttoning his jacket and patting down his hair.

Everyone looked out of sorts, which was exactly the way he’d planned it.

‘Remember where you’re supposed to go?’ he asked. ‘Have you got everything?’

Cripes, if this was the real thing, there wouldn’t be time to stand like this.

He ushered everyone down to the basement, waving his clipboard, ignoring Pam and Nancy’s rolling eyes and Elsie’s resentful expression. Only Maggie managed to give him a smile. They were pals now, since Saturday’s successful attempt to ride the tandem. He’d have suggested another practice on Sunday too, if it hadn’t poured with rain.