‘Nancy, do you understand? You, and only you, are to be responsible for Miss Edgerton’s quarters from this moment on. She won’t tolerate anybody else. It seems she’s taken quite a shine to you. There’ll be a little extra in it for you, of course. As I say, highly unorthodox, but Miss Edgerton is who she is and we are left with little choice in the—’

‘I’ll do it!’ Nancy blurted out.

Mrs Moffatt stepped back. ‘As I say, we aren’t left with any—’

‘No, Mrs Moffatt. Mrs Moffatt, I want to do it.’

I really do, thought Nancy as Mrs Moffatt dismissed her with a knowing twinkle in her eye, and she hurried out into the hall. What happened at New Year changed Miss Edgerton, but it changed me too. Miss Edgerton needs a friend. Everyone does. What else is there in the whole of the world? Mrs Moffatt was right when she said it was highly unorthodox – but then, Nancy Nettleton had never been the most orthodox kind of girl.

The other girls had already disappeared up in the service lift, so Nancy wandered alone up the housekeeping hall and to the red-and-black chequered reception where the Norwegian fir had already been stripped down. It wouldn’t be long before they started thinking about the next Christmas, thought Nancy; in a hotel as vast as this, time passes by so quickly. But how much can change in a year? Last year began with a new king and ended with his abdication. This year we’ll crown another new king. There’s still war in Spain. And in Germany . . .

Nancy stopped herself. Well, who knows what the future can bring? So much happened in a year, for the world as well as for me . . .

Billy Brogan was lurking – yes, there was no other word for it – by the reception desks, where the night manager was filling out his end-of-shift reports for handover to Mr Charles. When Nancy appeared, Billy caught her eye and, flushing crimson, promptly looked the other way. There had been something shamefaced about Billy since New Year’s night. What he’d helped Miss Edgerton do to Hélène was unconscionable. But everyone deserves a second chance. And Billy did the right thing in the end, didn’t he? What’s right and what’s wrong – he knew the difference, when it mattered. We’re all just trying to live our lives, to make them work, in the best way we can.

But Billy hadn’t spoken to her since New Year’s night – and that wasn’t right either.

‘Billy,’ she said, hurrying to his side. ‘Billy Brogan, you’re going to have to speak to me some day. The Buckingham’s big but it isn’t big enough that—’