‘We split up. I’m ever so peaceful now, living with a gloomy Dane.’

‘Good news.’

‘Wouldn’t you like a rinse?’

‘No, I wouldn’t.’

‘All your friends have them. Needn’t be red, you know. Just a bit of gold in with the silver. It would suit you.’

‘No thanks.’

‘Honestly? Why not tart you up a bit?’

‘Honestly, Paul, leave it alone.’

‘How right you are. All the old Fraus look years older than you, your hair looks terribly distinguished with your skin. How do you do it?’

‘Come on, Paul. Concentrate. Snip, snip, but don’t get carried away.’

‘Very well.’ Paul’s tired eyes met Matilda’s in the glass. ‘I’ll take great care. You don’t come often but I’m glad when you do.’

‘What a nice thing to say.’ Paul snipped, concentrating, combing her hair this way and that, snipping off tiny bits, the scissors, razor sharp, flickering between his fingers.

‘Have you seen Anabel or Louise lately?’

‘No, Paul. I think they have their hair done abroad. They haven’t been over for ages.’

‘No.’ Paul, who had cut Anabel’s hair a few days before, agreed. ‘They’ve got lovely hair like you, though I don’t think either of them will go your colour.’

‘Why not?’

‘All those rinses. Girls forget the colour they were born with. Very few white heads these days. There, how’s that? Suits your head.’ He held a mirror so that she could see. ‘Janey, blow Mrs Poliport then bring her back to me.’

Janey led Matilda away and brushed and blew.

‘That’s better.’ Paul gave a final snip or two. ‘Be all right now.’

‘Thank you. I feel ready to face the world.’

‘See you soon?’

‘I don’t know when I shall be in London again, if ever.’

‘Goodbye then –’ Paul was already hurrying to another customer. Matilda was forgotten. She paid the astronomical sum asked, tipped the girls, walked downstairs into the street, strolling slowly along to Green Park Tube.

As she went down the steps the hot air blowing up from below lifted her new hair and blew it every which way. She bought a ticket to Gloucester Road and went down into the bowels of London. It was time to find Hugh’s money. She wanted the job over, behind her, so that she could forget it.

Sitting in the train, which was bursting with young foreigners carrying parcels, shouting to one another above the noise of the train, Matilda breathed deeply to calm her nerves and repeated Hugh’s instructions to herself to be sure she had them right. She got out at Gloucester Road and walked to Hugh’s flat. Long before she rounded the corner into the Gardens she had his keys in her hand, one for the street door, the other for the flat.