“On and off all winter,” he said.

“And what does he say it is?”

“Bronchitis, love. All this smoke in the air and the winter fogs are bad for me. He says I should give myself a nice holiday at the seaside.”

“Good idea.”

He sighed. “It takes money to go on holiday, sweetheart. Right now I’m not exactly flush. All those doctor visits last winter. And the price of coal going up. I’m trying to live off the little bit I’ve got put by.”

“You’re not getting a police pension?”

“A very small one. I wasn’t on the force long enough, see. Got meself involved in a little bit of a fracas, coshed over the head, and then I started getting dizzy spells, so that was that.”

“Then ask Mother to help you out. I’m sure she’s got plenty.”

His face hardened. “I’m not taking German money. I’d rather starve first.”

“I’m sure she has money of her own. She’s been with an awful lot of rich men in her time.”

“She might have managed to put a bit away, but she’ll need that for herself when her looks finally go and she’s on her own. Besides, she was good enough to buy your grandma and me this house. She don’t owe me nothing. And I’m not asking anyone for charity.”

I noticed as I carried my plate across to the sink that the kitchen did look bare. An awful thought struck me that he had given me his last two eggs.

“I’ll get a job, Granddad,” I said. “And I’ll learn to cook and then you can come to dine with me at Rannoch House.”

That started him laughing again. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said.

I felt terrible as I rode the train back to London. My grandfather needed money badly and I couldn’t help him. Now I’d have to get a job in a hurry. It seemed that it wasn’t as easy to escape from family as I had thought.

It was a bright, warm evening and I was loath to go back to that dreary, empty house with the furniture covered in dust sheets and rooms that never warmed up enough to be comfortable. I got off at South Kensington and started to walk up the Brompton Road. Knightsbridge was still bustling with elegant couples on their way to an evening’s entertainment. You’d never know that there was a depression and that a good portion of the world was lining up for a bowl of soup. Having grown up in such privileged circles, I’d only just become aware of the terrible injustices in the world and they worried me. If I’d been a lady with a comfortable private income, I’d have volunteered at those soup kitchens. However, I was now also one of the unemployed poor. I might be needing that bread and soup myself. Of course, I realized that it was different for me. I only had to agree to go and live with an elderly princess and I’d be dining well and drinking the best wines, without a care in the world. Except that now the thought was creeping into my consciousness that one should care. One should be doing something worthwhile.