‘You can be very proud of your work here, girls!’ Mrs Moffatt announced. ‘I wouldn’t have done it finer if I’d done every bit myself.’

‘It feels like Christmas now, doesn’t it?’ Rosa chirped gleefully. ‘Everything feels so much more—’

‘Festive!’ Ruth announced.

‘It makes you want to sing.’

‘Well, we should,’ one of the other girls chipped in. ‘We could go carolling. Sunday night’s off night. We can take some carols out there. Go a-wassailing, like when we was girls . . .’

‘What do you say, Nance? Carolling this Sunday. We can get all the girls up in the kitchenette tonight, practise some numbers. You’ll come too, won’t you, Mrs Moffatt?’

Mrs Moffatt smiled as she shook her head. ‘My carolling days are behind me. Don’t you girls go thinking that, just because it’s Christmas, there’ll be any less work in this hotel. Do you want to know a little secret?’ She leaned in and, grinning, whispered, ‘There’ll be more. But, I suppose, one night of carolling wouldn’t hurt.’ Dusting her hands off, she marched away, bound for the housekeeping lounge. ‘Breakfast in ten minutes. We still have rooms and suites to take care of.’

‘Well, Nance?’ Rosa went on, after Mrs Moffatt was gone. ‘Come practise some carols with us tonight?’

Nancy froze. ‘I’ll be there,’ she finally said – but inwardly she felt bereft. The girls would be disappointed in her – there’d be gossip again, she was certain of that – because if she joined them at all, it would be after the carolling was over.

Tonight, there was some place else she had to be.

*

The decorations extended even as far as the little windowless studio behind the ballroom. Here sprigs of last year’s holly, preserved all summer long, were entwined around the braziers in which a myriad of candles flickered – and the baubles hanging from the rafters, though faded from years of use, were no less brilliant. An hour before the ballroom was due to open its doors that night, Nathaniel opened the studio door and stopped dead.

The wireless in the corner was buzzing out George Hall and his orchestra, ‘Santa Bring My Mommy Back to Me’, while across the studio Raymond de Guise and his chamber girl danced a simple two-step.

Hélène stumbled into the studio alongside Nathaniel. Nancy must have finished her duties for the day, for surely she would not have absconded to come here and dance. A few weeks of dedicated dancing had not turned Nancy into a professional, but there was more elegance, more grace to the way she pivoted and turned. Some of the art was radiating out, from Raymond into her.