Rachaela had explained to Ruth about her periods, sitting at the table with her while Ruth drew, asking if she understood. Rachaela’s mother had not told her anything but had given her a rather serious book. The blood had come in the middle of the night and she had still been appalled. She had had to wake her mother up to ask for sanitary pads, and her mother had grumbled, Rachaela put pads into Ruth’s drawer, among her underclothes, in front of her.

Ruth showed no resentment, no excitement. ‘I heard about it at school.’

‘From the teachers?’

‘From a girl.’

‘Tell me when you start,’ Rachaela felt bound to say.

‘All right.’

What did Ruth look like, unclothed? Rachaela never saw her. She would go nightly into the bathroom in her skirt and blouse and come out in a cotton nightshirt.

Rachaela slept in a nightshirt, too. Ruth’s decorum had somehow imposed it on her.

The bath was full.

Rachaela let the mirror veil itself in steam and stepped into the water.

‘Hi, you’re late,’ said Jonquil airily as Rachaela entered the shop. ‘That kid of yours mess you up? Is she at her secondary yet?’

‘Next year, when she’s eleven.’

‘I suppose you’ve got that all mapped out.’

‘It will depend on some test,’ said Rachaela vaguely. She was used to answering occasional questions about the child, who perhaps Jonquil did not really think existed after all.

‘I see,’ said Jonquil. ‘Used to be the old eleven-plus, but that’s all different now. You wouldn’t remember.’

Rachaela made coffee, and tea for Jonquil with one of her herbal tea bags. Jonquil fussed round her. When they sat down, Jonquil stood up again.

‘You’ve been here a long while, haven’t you, Raech? What is it—five years?’

‘A little longer.’

‘Denise too. Poor old Denise. That bloody awful feller she’s with. I hoped he’d leave her in peace but he knows when he’s on to a good thing.’ Jonquil drank some tea and sighed gustily. ‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to shut up shop.’

Rachaela looked at her. This had been on the cards from the very beginning. She was only surprised Isis had lasted so long.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘Yeah. It’s a shame. But there’s never been much interest around here. Dozy hole. I’ve got a chance to go in with a women’s group up Manchester way. So I’m all right. But it means curtains for Denise and you. Will you be OK?’

‘Oh, I’ll find something else.’

‘Some skivvy’s job. Or running round after some bloody male in an office.’

‘Probably.’

‘I wish I could do something.’

‘How long?’ said Rachaela.

‘End of this month. It’s rotten timing. It’ll be Christmas next. But it will give you a bit more time with the kid.’

‘Yes.’