Pam sat up with a sigh and gazed around. ‘It’s rather cramped but at least none of us has to bunk up with Miss Sharp. Poor Elsie. Bet Sharpy snores like a trooper!’

Nancy looked worried. ‘I think perhaps I might snore.’

Pam shook her head. ‘I bet Miss Sharp snores like a rhinoceros!’

‘Or a warthog!’ Nancy added.

They collapsed into hysterics. Nancy had a raucous, braying laugh which made Maggie wince.

Pam flopped back down on the bed. ‘I wonder where the chaps are?’ She yawned. ‘We can’t even unpack until the boy brings our bags up.’

‘I know. Bore-dom,’ Nancy agreed.

‘We could have brought up our own bags really, couldn’t we?’ Maggie said. Her voice sounded small. She wanted to add ‘It wouldn’t have killed us’, but thought better of it.

‘Speak for yourself,’ Pam said. ‘I’ve brought tons. I’ll need half that wardrobe, I’m warning you both now. Heaven only knows how long we’re going to be here.’

‘Till the war ends,’ Nancy said. ‘It was supposed to be over by Christmas but crikey, it might go on for another ten years!’ She sighed and thumped the pillow. ‘Why did the war have to happen now and spoil the best years of our lives? I wish I could wake up to find it’s all simply been a bad dream.’

Pam rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, do buck up, Nancy! We have to face facts that it’s probably going to be rather dull, out here in the sticks. No cinemas, no theatres and definitely no opera. And where am I going to get my hair permed?’

Nancy patted her curls. ‘Thank goodness I managed to fit in one more decent cut and set before we left.’

Maggie wouldn’t miss any of those. She’d never been to the opera and since that time she’d got lost coming home in the blackout from the pictures, she hadn’t dared go again. As for visiting a hairdressing salon, luckily her hair had a natural curl because she never had the money for it.

She pressed her cheek against the cool windowpane.

Blimey, it looked so vast and open; it didn’t look real. But Violet was out there somewhere. And hopefully not too far away.

‘Oh, I say! Tidings of great joy!’ Nancy shrieked. ‘Look what I found on top of the chest!’ She was waving a piece of paper in the air. ‘An invitation! A “Welcome Reception” at seven o’clock tonight!’

Pam shot up and jiggled her hand. ‘Give it here!’

A ‘welcome reception’? Maggie’s heart sank. What did that mean? It sounded serious. And posh.

Pam read the note and grinned. ‘Super! This is more like it!’ She tilted her head to one side, put her hand on her hip and struck a pose. ‘Drinks on the terrace, darling?’