“But I’m soiled goods, darling. No top-drawer family wants their son to get hitched to someone like me. I’m clearly not a virgin, like you. I’ve a reputation now, and no fortune to go with it. And I’m stony-broke at the moment—no idea how I’m going to pay my maid and put food on the table, unless something good turns up.”

“So Hollywood didn’t work out for you, then?” I said. “You said that Mrs. Goldman shut down Golden Pictures, but what about all the other studios? Didn’t any of them want a talented costume designer? You had terrific contacts, after all—you swam nude with Craig Hart.”

Belinda frowned. “It seems there are too many talented people in Hollywood, fighting for too little work. And I didn’t really feel comfortable over there. That sort of lifestyle wasn’t for me. Too brash. Too artificial. Nobody means what they say. They talk big, make big promises and it’s all fabrication.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I bet you’d have made a brilliant costume designer. You are very talented.”

“Kind of you to say so, darling.” She managed a weak smile.

“You have trained with Chanel, Belinda. And you’re really good. You could easily start your own line over here. I know you could.”

“I know I could too,” she said, “except that it all takes money. I’d need premises, seamstresses, fabric . . . and remember what I found out before? Those who can afford good clothes want everything on credit. It’s a constant fight to make them pay up.”

I sighed this time. “It’s not easy, is it? My mother gave me a nice check when she went back to Germany but it won’t last forever. And now that you’re home I’m not even sure where I’ll go. Back to Scotland, with my sister-in-law telling me what a burden I am, I suppose.”

Belinda put a hand on my shoulder. “I’d let you stay on here, but there’s nowhere for you to sleep when my maid comes back. And it does rather cramp one’s style having a friend asleep on a downstairs sofa.”

“Of course I realize I can’t stay on here,” I said.

“But you have the family home on Belgrave Square,” she said. “Oodles of bedrooms. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, except that Fig made it quite clear they couldn’t afford to open it up just for me. Apparently even the small amount of coal I’d use to heat one bedroom is beyond their means.”

“Your brother is really as hard up as that?” Belinda asked.