‘Neither have you,’ Dulcie pointed out. Then, to Grace’s dismay, added, ‘Anyway, Duffield will probably be married before any of us.’

‘Oh, yes? And how do you work that out?’ Miriam asked.

Grace sent Dulcie a pleading look, which she ignored.

‘Because she’s engaged.’

Grace’s heart sank. The other girls immediately turned to her, mouths agape.

‘Engaged?’

‘Never!’

‘But you’re not wearing a ring?’

‘That’s because it’s not true,’ Miriam declared. ‘Moore’s having us on.’

‘I’m not,’ Dulcie insisted. She looked at Grace. ‘Go on, tell them.’

Grace stared down at her ringless left hand. ‘It is true,’ she said. ‘And I do have an engagement ring, I just – don’t like to wear it.’

Noah had not seen anything wrong with giving her his dead wife’s ring, and her mother thought it a very practical idea.

‘Why go to all the expense of buying a new ring, when you’ve got a perfectly good one lying in a drawer?’ she said. ‘Besides, it’s not as if his wife’s going to need it, is it?’

But somehow Grace could not bring herself to put it on.

‘So why haven’t you told us this before?’ Miriam wanted to know.

‘There isn’t much to tell.’

Mary laughed. ‘Oh Duffield, that’s typical of you! Of course there’s a lot to tell. What’s his name, for a start? Where did you meet him?’

‘Is he handsome?’ Miriam put in.

Grace stared at them, perplexed by their questions.

‘He’s an old friend,’ Dulcie said. ‘You’ve known him years. Isn’t that right, Duffield?’

Grace nodded dumbly.

‘How did you know he was the one for you?’ Mary asked.

Grace looked at her friend’s eager face. Mary Finnegan was already smiling brightly, expecting to hear some romantic love story.

‘I—’

She was saved from answering when the door to the fitting room opened and Sylvia Saunders stepped out, a vision in white lace.

‘Well?’ She looked at them shyly from beneath her lashes. ‘What do you think?’

‘Oh, Saunders!’

They all joined in the chorus of admiration, telling her how beautiful she looked. Even Dulcie couldn’t help complimenting her.

All the while, Sylvia gazed at herself in the mirror, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

‘Do you think Roger will like it?’ she asked, biting her lip.

‘He’ll love it,’ Miriam said.

‘He already adores you,’ Mary added. ‘This will make him adore you even more.’

‘I bet you can’t wait to see his face when you walk down the aisle?’ Miriam said.

‘No, I can’t.’ Sylvia looked back at her reflection, her face suddenly wreathed in smiles, as if she was picturing that wonderful moment. She looked so radiantly happy, Grace felt a lump rise in her throat.

Mary Finnegan nudged her. ‘Just think,’ she whispered. ‘That will be you soon!’

Grace looked back at Sylvia, still twirling in front of the mirror, admiring herself from all angles.

No, it won’t, she thought. She tried to imagine herself standing in front of a mirror in a white dress, so in love and excited to be getting married she almost couldn’t wait for her wedding day to come. But every time she pictured it, all she could feel was dread settling in her stomach like a cold, hard stone.