Maggie nodded. ‘If I’d left her behind, my dad … well, there was no saying what he’d do.’ She tugged on a piece of straw from the bale and shrugged. ‘He didn’t want me to come here but I did it anyway.’

Charity wiped a crumb from her lips. ‘Good for you! Quite the little rebel, aren’t you? So, you’re getting along with the other girls then?’

Maggie winced, not quite sure what to say. ‘They’re pals, so I’m a bit surplus to requirements. But I’m not complaining. I haven’t come here to make friends, after all. I’ve come to find my sister and work hard and—’

‘Oh well, if you don’t want to be friends …’ Charity said, pretending to be upset.

‘I didn’t mean you! I mean—’

‘Only teasing,’ Charity said, waving her sandwich dismissively. ‘Say, I know a fabulous watering hole not a million miles away.’

Maggie’s face must have been blank.

Charity laughed. ‘A pub, dear girl! The pub in the village! Let’s have a night out there soon, shall we?’

Chapter 13

‘Morale, Maguire, I’m putting you in charge of morale.’

The lad standing in front of Joseph, his arms respectfully behind his back, was pale and gauche in his too-big jacket.

He nodded. ‘Morale, Sir? As you wish, Sir.’

Yes, Sir, No, Sir, Three bags full, Sir. Oh, how Joseph hated ‘yes men’.

‘Do sit,’ he said. ‘Don’t stand on ceremony.’ He reached across his desk for the cigar box and picked out a panatela. He lit it and sucked on it until it glowed and then sat back and enjoyed it for a moment.

He couldn’t help regretting the loss of Wilcock, Middleton and Grainger. Good men, all of them. But, of course, they’d joined up immediately, or in Grainger’s case, retired. He’d have to make the best of what he had.

‘What age are you, Maguire?’

‘Twenty-five next birthday, Sir.’

Joseph drew on his cigar and nodded. They both knew what he was driving at. The role of bank clerk was only reserved from twenty-five and above. There was still time for Maguire to enlist.

Before Bob Grainger had retired, Joseph had asked him for a recommendation – he hoped that hadn’t been a mistake – and Grainger had suggested Maguire, sitting here now, twisting his hands in his lap.

The boy was keen but was he a leader? Could he take charge? Clearly, he’d already put Cynthia Sharp’s nose out of joint.

Joseph had badly misjudged that business with Miss Sharp.

He’d spotted an engagement ring on her hand a while ago. He didn’t notice jewellery, as a rule, but every time Miss Sharp brought papers to be signed, the glinting diamond on her left hand seemed to be in his eyeline.