Though Sybil had dismissed Ada’s news as preposterous, she nevertheless couldn’t get it out of her head. The conversation had brought back happy memories of the time she had mixed with the cream of London society, so much so that on the spur of the moment Sybil caught the bus into Kendal in order to buy some fashion magazines. Irritated that there was little more than farming weeklies and knitting magazines in the newsagent’s, Sybil eventually came across a couple of old back copies of Vogue. Flicking through them, she found an article, ‘This Season’s Top War Hostesses’, and promptly bought both issues.

On the smoky bus back to Grange, Sybil flicked to an article which caught her eye. ‘There’s More than One Way to Beat Gerry!’

Underneath were photographs of glamorous women in glittering sequinned ballgowns serving champagne and canapés to handsome, war-decorated heroes. It was no surprise to find Lady Veronica, by far the most stunning and best dressed of them all, smiling alongside her husband, who looked ridiculous as he beamed for the camera with a Pekinese dog tucked under each arm.

War hero Brigadier Montague Baldwin now works from behind a desk in Whitehall. A sad loss to the troops in the field but a bonus for the War Office responsible for the movement of tanks across Europe. One of our bravest and most honoured men, he still manages to spend time with his charming wife, Lady Veronica, their young daughter, Marigold, and their two Pekinese dogs, a gift from doting Monty to his wife on their tenth wedding anniversary.

The jerky movements of the stuffy bus winding its way along the narrow country lanes and breaking at every junction started to make Sybil feel nauseous; the article she’d just read didn’t help either. Feeling the bile rise in her throat, Sybil’s hatred of the man returned with venom.

‘The bastard,’ she seethed under her breath.

He had done nothing to ease her burden, quite the opposite in fact: when she could have flown the coop, he had slammed her cage door shut. She would have vengeance on Monty for treating her like dirt; somehow, she would drag him down from his privileged society perch.

‘If only people knew what he was really like,’ Sybil thought bitterly.