‘And Lydia Chatfield, is there a baby yet?’ Vivian asked as she passed Mabel a wooden brick with the letter T on it.

‘’Fraid not. Wants one awfully.’ Vivian could tell from Ava’s tone that she didn’t totally comprehend her friend’s desire. Vivian pitied Lady Chatfield.

‘And now her husband is away, I suppose, so it’s all on hold.’

‘In the Home Office, actually, not away.’

‘Oh, did he fail the medical?’

‘Something like that. Did I mention Margo Hopkins is married?’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. Rather well. Certainly better than any of us expected. He’s not much to look at, but quite rich and awfully good at riding. All rather hurried, of course. He’s rushed off to the Front.’

‘Poor thing.’ Vivian thought of what Howard had said about those most fearing death rushing into marriages. She hoped Margo and her husband had managed to squeeze in a wild and passionate honeymoon before he went to France.

‘A lot of people are still so very excited about the war,’ commented Ava.

‘Odd, isn’t it.’

‘Is it? The men get to travel abroad. They’re with their pals. I can imagine worse things.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Their letters are quite cheerful.’

‘They are lying.’

‘How do you know?’

‘They must loathe it, be shocked by it. All but the very worst of men must be. They just can’t say. They daren’t be the first to say.’ Ava stared at Vivian. She looked surprised but respectful; still Vivian felt uncomfortable under her gaze. ‘Does Margo Hopkins’ young man come with a title?’

‘Yes, he does. She’s Lady Lutton now. Do you remember she always wore woolly lumpy bodices, even at dances?’

‘Yet she’s married very well. I do wonder about that.’ Vivian had worn practically nothing under her dresses at dances. Just stockings, her belt, knickers and a light camisole. She’d thought she’d known what she was doing. She hadn’t, not at all.

‘Do you know who else I bumped into?’

‘Who?’

‘Miss Mildred Douglas. Wasn’t she—’

‘My old governess. Yes. She drank gin out of a teacup and didn’t care much if her charges understood anything beyond their times tables.’ Eccentricity was absorbed if it only affected girls, because really how much damage could be done to girls? They had no influence. ‘Oh, I owe her so much. I know a great deal about practically nothing and practically nothing about a great deal,’ said Vivian playfully, trying to mask her irritation with circumstances.

‘It’s a shame, Vivi. You strike me as rather bright.’

‘Thank you.’ She had been so silly but she thought perhaps she wasn’t quite so now. She’d changed. She’d grown up, as they’d threatened she would.

‘She does some secretarial work in the afternoons at the Foreign Office.’

‘Does she? How extraordinary.’

‘I assumed she’d still be teaching your younger sisters.’

‘Mother couldn’t trust her, after I turned so bad. They are keeping my sisters on very tight leashes after my escapade, unnecessarily tight. I hope Miss Douglas is a better secretary than she was governess.’