In her other hand, the girl was holding a glass and as Maggie watched, she threw her head back and drained it. A waiter immediately appeared at her side and swapped the empty glass for a full one.

‘How’s the wine?’ Ray asked Maggie.

She took a sip and tried not to grimace.

He laughed. ‘That good?’

It was horrible. Velvety and almost dry; it had the oddest texture. ‘It’s not too bad, I suppose,’ Maggie said. ‘It’s … erm, very nice.’

‘Liar,’ he said, laughing.

‘Who’s that?’ Maggie asked Ray, nodding towards the blonde girl.

‘I don’t have the foggiest but shall we go and find out?’

She was even prettier close up. Her name was Charity Richmond.

‘And yes,’ she said, ‘there are three of us: Faith, Hope and yours truly. My mother collects things. She’s a …’ She laughed. ‘Now, let me get this right, she’s a philatelist and a plangonologist. Stamps and dolls. And daughters, it turned out. She collects daughters, too. Tell me I’m not the only one with a mad mother!’

She was looking straight at Maggie.

‘I … no. My mother’s gone,’ she said. Her stomach plunged. Blimey, why had she said that? She’d panicked.

Charity pulled a sympathetic face. ‘I’m so dreadfully sorry. That damned Jerry’s got a lot to answer for, hasn’t he?’

‘There are three girls in my family too,’ Ray said and Maggie was grateful to him for deflecting attention away from her.

‘Well, I don’t wish to be a topper, Mr Maguire,’ Charity said, ‘but there are actually four girls in mine. Gracie came along two years after me. An accident, by all accounts. Oh, but a lovely one. I adore my little sister.’

‘Oh, so do I!’ Maggie blurted out. ‘That is, I adore mine.’

She felt herself redden. She’d never gushed like that over Violet before but the others didn’t seem to find it odd. In any case, why shouldn’t she say she adored Violet? She did, after all.

She forced down the lump in her throat. She wouldn’t cry. But heavens, she did love her sister. She wouldn’t be here, putting herself through all this, otherwise.

‘I’m Land Army,’ Charity was saying. ‘There are two of us working on the estate. Gillian’s not here tonight. Not her scene. We’re billeted with an old dear in the village, we have a ten o’clock curfew and we have to share a bed, which was—’ she rolled her eyes ‘—unexpected!’

They laughed.

‘Hullo, there. What’s so funny?’ a voice said from behind. It was Pam, with Nancy. Ray stepped to one side to make room for them to join the circle. They introduced themselves to Charity and Pam asked again, why they’d all been laughing.

‘I was just saying,’ Charity started to explain, ‘that I’m billeted with—’