Yes, the job was good, but her relentless weight gain was not. Claire was sure this summons was about that. Sylvester would – in his very nice way – tell her that she had to lay off the doughnuts. But Gina had already been on her case about that – and she wasn’t eating much. The seamstress who altered all the girls’ costumes had been in a couple of times, letting her outfit out at the seams. But it seemed like a battle she couldn’t win. She wasn’t comforteating and in fact sometimes she felt too sick to eat at all. But in her heart of hearts she was still shattered by all that had happened to her back in England. Her dream of a perfect world had been an illusion, cruelly ripped apart in one horrible night, and it haunted her. The loss of her old life tormented her, too; that perfect Romany life, free of constraint, free of care. She missed it every day, missed Eva and Pally and Trace, but knew she mustn’t get in touch, couldn’t let them know anything about where she was or what she was doing. She had to keep them safe.

And Josh! Would she ever get over the loss of him?

‘No, nothing wrong. Not at all.’ He shuffled a few papers and then sat back, smiling at her. ‘Gina’s been telling me great things about you,’ he said.

‘Oh?’

‘Says you’re a fantastic asset,’ he said.

‘Well . . . that’s kind of her.’ Claire could hear a but coming.

‘Kind, shmind.’ Sylvester made a dismissive movement with one long-fingered hand. ‘She knows a good worker when she sees one. Says you’re real efficient. Got a good head for figures and the clients like you.’

‘So . . . ?’ Claire hadn’t a clue where this was going.

‘So how about taking on a new role? Assistant to Gina. More backroom stuff than out front with the clients, how about that?’

Claire felt her innards shrivel with shame. He’d noticed how fat she was getting. Gina certainly had, she’d called in the seamstress and stood boot-faced and disapproving while the woman fussed over Claire with the tape measure. God, she’d tried so hard not to stuff her face, tried to eat sensibly. She really had. But her body seemed to be ballooning out of control. And now she saw it in Sylvester’s face. The awkward sideways glances, the nervous paper-shuffling. He knew, all right. And this was his kind way of handling it. Pushing her to one side, out of sight of the paying customers.

Sylvester cleared his throat. ‘Gina will be retiring next year, so this is a real good step up for you. What do you think?’