‘And have you?’ Maggie asked. ‘Met one?’

Charity rolled her eyes. ‘What do you think? You don’t have a choice, you know, they can send you anywhere. I ended up here, helping out old Tonks. All we do is grow veg and herbs, keep chickens and fatten up the pig. Have to step it up a bit now there are more mouths to feed.’ She paused and became suddenly more serious. ‘I wanted to do my bit as well.’

‘Of course,’ Maggie agreed.

‘It’s been frightfully dull,’ Charity said. Her eyes lit up. ‘So, I’m delighted the Bank’s come to Snowden!’

Maggie smiled. At least someone was. She got the impression – from the housekeeper and the grumpy gardener, at least – that as far as the house staff were concerned, it just meant more work for them.

‘Actually, I do like the uniform,’ Charity admitted, cheerfully. ‘This shirt’s a bugger though, pardon my French. It itches like mad!’ She pulled at the shirt’s collar.

‘What’s it like?’ Maggie asked. ‘Wearing trousers?’

Charity pulled a face. ‘Never seen a girl in slacks before?’

Maggie shook her head. Some of the women in the munitions factory had worn dungarees but Maggie’s line had only been issued with overalls.

Charity looked down and grinned. ‘Oh, but they’re the best! You don’t have to worry about knicker elastic fail, for starters.’

Maggie giggled and looked around to check no one was within earshot.

‘That happened to me, once, you know,’ Charity said. ‘Ping! I felt it go and then my unmentionables worked their way down my legs until they reached the point of no return.’

Maggie gasped. ‘You mean they …?’

‘Yes! But we’d been taught what to do “in case of an emergency” in “Deportment”. Step out of them, kick them to the side with a deft flick, keep walking and never look back.’

‘And did that work?’

‘Perfectly. Until a chap a few yards behind picked them up and ran up to me calling, “Miss, Miss, you’ve dropped something!”’

They laughed.

‘Oh here,’ Maggie said, suddenly remembering her reason for seeking Charity out. ‘Your shawl. Thanks for lending it to me.’ She held it up, bundled in her hand. ‘I’ve checked all over and I can’t see any stains.’

Charity frowned and shook her head.

‘Oh, perhaps you didn’t see …’ Maggie said. Charity must have been the only one who hadn’t. ‘I had an accident with a glass of wine last night. Poured it all over myself. Lady Ashford came to my rescue.’

‘Ah, I see.’ Charity nodded. ‘Could you put it on the bale of straw over there, behind the fence and out of harm’s way? Bing’ll eat it if he gets the chance. Thank you. No, I didn’t see any of that commotion! Poor you.’

Maggie wondered if that was true or whether Charity was simply being kind. Either way, she was grateful.