Mrs Mason raised her eyebrows. She really did have a corker of a black eye. ‘And,’ the older woman added firmly, ‘not having another coat to wear while it’s being done.’ She sniffed, put her coat back on and picked up her bag from the table.

‘Cripes, I almost forgot,’ she said, holding something out to Maggie, bunched in her hand. ‘One of the waiters brought this in. Yours, ain’t it?’

It was Charity’s lace shawl. It must have been left on the lawn when Maggie was propelled into the Hall by Lady Ashford.

She took it, hardly daring to look but, miraculously, the shawl seemed to have escaped any damage. The cream lace was still pristine.

‘Nice,’ Mrs Mason said, nodding approvingly. She raised her eyebrows. ‘Family heirloom, is it?’

Maggie laughed and shook her head. ‘No. At least, not my family. We don’t have any heirlooms.’

The housekeeper’s face softened. ‘No, love. You and me both.’ She put her coat on with a sigh. ‘I’ll be off then.’

‘Oh, don’t you live here?’

Mrs Mason shook her head. ‘I might as well, eh? No, dear, I have a husband to look after. Besides, where would I sleep, with all you cockneys taking up the rooms?’ She gave Maggie a curt nod. ‘See you in the morning. Night, night. God bless.’

* * *

It was gone midnight before Pam and Nancy got into bed.

Maggie was curled up in a ball under the eiderdown, which smelled faintly of camphor, pretending to be asleep and trying not to sneeze. The girls had spent ages putting their rollers in and the smell of setting lotion had gone up her nose.

‘Where did you disappear to, Maggie?’ Pam asked. The beds creaked as she and Nancy climbed into them.

‘Yes, we didn’t see hide nor hair of you after you poured that wine over yourself,’ Nancy said, with a giggle. ‘And we’d asked around and got the lowdown on the handsome airman, too. We were dying to tell you.’

Maggie had to stuff her fist into her mouth, to stop herself laughing. If only they knew!

‘Well, his name is John Rosman.’

Jack, actually, Maggie thought. Jack to his friends.

Nancy continued, ‘And he’s Lord Ashford’s nephew! Which explains the good looks. And, here’s the best part: he’s not married!’

Maggie wasn’t interested, of course she wasn’t and yet, why had her heart missed a beat when Nancy said he wasn’t married?

‘Yet,’ Pam said, firmly. ‘He’ll be snapped up any day, mark my words. Especially as—’

‘But that might not be true!’ Nancy interrupted. ‘It’s probably just village gossip.’

Especially as what? Maggie held her breath, straining to hear through the thick eiderdown and trying desperately to think what ‘especially as’ might be referring to.

But, to her frustration, Pam said no more on the subject.