‘You did right to tell me, Sarah’ – he had never called her Sarah before – ‘but this is too much responsibility for us. I’ll just get the fireman to come round from the front to look after the door, and then we’ll go up and you’ll tell Mr Smith what you’ve told me. He’ll know what should be done.’

‘Oh, thank you, Bill,’ said Sarah, not noticing she had used his Christian name.

Of course Tommy Smith had to be told the whole story starting at the beginning when Lavinia had seen Matron. When Sarah had told all she knew he thought for a bit and then said:

‘You must know a trusty growler driver, don’t you, Bill?’

‘That I do,’ Bill agreed, ‘a relative of my sister’s ’usband he is.’

‘Do you know how to get hold of him?’

Bill nodded. ‘Has his dinner at The Pig and Whistle. I could leave a message there for him.’

‘Good,’ said Mr Smith. ‘Who’s on the door now?’

‘I got the fireman.’

‘Right. Well, tell him to stay on there and you pop along to The Pig and Whistle, and tell your friend to call each night at curtain fall to pick up a young lady and her …’ He hesitated, not knowing how to describe Sarah.

‘Friend,’ Sarah suggested.

‘Friend,’ Mr Smith agreed, ‘and tell him when he comes to the stage door tonight he is to ask Mrs Beamish for her house key, unlock the door, and see Margaret and Mrs Beamish safely inside before he leaves!’

On the stairs on the way back to the stage door Sarah stopped. ‘There! I never asked him about paying. I’ll manage of course but will it cost a lot?’

Bill smiled. ‘You didn’t order the growler, Mr Smith did, so he’ll pay and, what’s more, he’ll find the money out of the little cash box what he keeps and Sir John won’t be a penny the wiser.’

‘You don’t think he’ll tell Sir John?’

Bill dismissed that idea. ‘’Course he won’t. If Sir John knew of Margaret’s little worry he’d call out the whole of the police force and a private detective and I don’t know what else. And we mustn’t forget Lady Lavinia is only a child and she may have imagined what she thinks she saw. Anyway, best not trouble Sir John.’

Liza had stuck to her promise, and each day she wandered about Covent Garden until she found Simon and could give him Katie’s and Margaret’s gift of food.

‘I’m glad to ’ave it to give,’ she told Margaret. ‘Now it’s turned so cold the poor little thing is blue, for ’e hasn’t much on.’

‘I wonder he doesn’t stay in the house until it’s time to go to the theatre.’

There was scorn in Liza’s voice. ‘Chance is a good thing. I reckon that Ma Mud sends ’im and any of the others who is not workin’ out in the streets to beg, she won’t want ’im ’anging’ about indoors, an’ I don’t suppose there is any fire.’