‘I will,’ she said. ‘You carry on. I’ll be there in a minute.’

The girls were sitting in silence around the table at the far end of the Gallery. As Maggie took a cup and saucer from the tray on the side and joined them, Miss Sharp drained her cup and stood up. ‘Here, Miss Corbett. I have to take some papers in to his Lordship, so do have my seat.’

Everyone looked glum. The men had taken their tea outside, onto the sunny terrace; Maggie could see them through the French doors, sitting on the low wall or standing in small groups, smoking. She wished they were in here. One of them could usually be relied on to crack a joke and lighten the mood.

Nancy gave a dramatic sigh and leaned across the table for the teapot. ‘Shall I be mother?’ she asked and poured some tea for Maggie. ‘Anyone else?’ Pam and Elsie shook their heads.

Maggie’s chest was tight and her fingertips were tingling. Her hand trembled as she held her teacup. She couldn’t bear it a moment longer. Her mind was swirling; the right words wouldn’t come. Finally, she blurted out, ‘I’m sorry about your money, Pam. But it wasn’t me. I didn’t take it, cross my heart. I just wanted to say that, in case …’ Her voice trailed off.

‘Sorry, what?’ Pam obviously hadn’t been listening. Either that or she simply wanted Maggie to say it all over again.

Maggie flushed. ‘I said—’

‘Oh, don’t worry yourself on that score, Maggie,’ Nancy interrupted. ‘We never dreamed it was you!’

Maggie shot her a grateful glance. Someone was on her side, for once. What a relief!

‘No,’ Elsie joined in from across the table, ‘you wouldn’t dare!’ They laughed. ‘Maggie the mouse!’ Elsie added for good measure.

Maggie felt stung. Is that how they all saw her? A little scaredy-cat who wouldn’t say boo to a goose?

‘Oh, don’t be upset,’ Nancy said. ‘It’s absolutely a term of endearment, really it is.’

Maggie dropped her cup onto its saucer, stood up and pushed back her chair. Ignoring the others’ surprised looks and Nancy’s shriek of, ‘Well, really!’ she marched outside, through the French doors, to where Ray was standing with some other chaps.

‘Might I have a word, Mr Maguire?’ she asked.

‘Oi, oi!’ Big Bill said. He looked as though he was going to say more but Ray glared at him.

Ray put his cup down on the wall and silently led the way, until they were standing outside the windows of the Long Gallery, out of everyone’s earshot.

Maggie’s head had started to pound. The girls had made her so angry and anger, she realised, was good. It pushed you into doing things you might not otherwise do. She had to say it now, while she had that fire in her belly.