Maggie thought for a moment. No one liked a moaner so she didn’t want to complain. ‘Yes, everything’s fine,’ she said. ‘Mind you, Pam’s money still hasn’t appeared and even though Elsie said no one thought it was me, I’m sure I’m suspect number one.’

‘But why?’

‘Because I’m the last one in! They’ve all known each other for ages.’

It was also probably obvious to everyone that she was hard up. Perhaps they thought the temptation would be greater for her.

‘It’s horrid,’ Maggie said, ‘knowing that people I live and work with, might think I’m a thief.’

Charity tutted. ‘I’ve a good mind to box their ears for them! What’s Pam doing with that much money in her purse, anyway? A whole pound! After board and lodgings, that’s more than I earn in a week! You’ll simply have to face it with a brave heart, Maggie. Hold your head up and wait for the truth to come out. It usually does.’

They discussed their plans for the weekend.

‘Gill and I are cycling over to see some friends,’ Charity said. ‘Land Army girls, on a farm about five miles from here. They’ll put us up in the barn on Saturday night. What are you up to? Suppose you’re out on the tandem again?’

They were. Yet another letter had arrived from Violet without any kisses and Maggie was desperate now to get to Vi’s billet and set her mind at rest.

Charity’s eyes widened. ‘Glutton for punishment, aren’t you?’

‘It’s a forty-mile round trip and it’s too dark now to practise after work, so Ray says we have to pack as much into weekends as we can. He says riding a tandem’s like dancing; someone has to lead and on a tandem it’s the captain. That’s him. I’m the stoker.’

Charity laughed, took a drag of her cigarette and swung out her legs. ‘Ray this, Ray that! Getting rather chummy, aren’t you?’

‘Oh, leave it out!’ Maggie gave Charity a gentle thump on the arm.

Charity blew a ring of smoke into the air. ‘Are you quite sure he hasn’t got a soft spot for you?’

‘Don’t be daft! I’m not his type.’

‘What makes you say that?’

Maggie pursed her lips. ‘He thinks I’m a clumsy oaf, I’m sure. And besides, Ray Maguire wants to make something of himself.’

‘Nothing wrong with that,’ Charity pointed out. ‘Some would say good for him.’

‘What I mean is, I’m not a step up for him. We’re both cockneys. Sound of Bow Bells and all that. And he’s trying to leave that behind. I know he is.’

‘Here,’ Charity said, opening her gas mask box. ‘I’ve got one corned beef sandwich left. Split it?’