The house in Chelsea was deserted. She found a note in the room she shared with her husband. Becket had written, ‘Dear Daisy, Gone out with the captain on a case. Love you.’

Daisy felt restless. The rest of the day stretched before her, empty and boring. They should have waited and taken her with them. She was now supposed to be a detective as well.

She took off her hat and went downstairs to the parlour and sat down to read the newspapers. Daisy came across an advertisement for Miss Friendly’s salon, announcing the grand opening in a month’s time. She took a note of the address and decided to go and visit Miss Friendly.

The salon was in a small shop at the bottom of Hay Hill in Mayfair. Daisy rang the bell and waited. The door was opened by Phil Marshall.

‘Come in,’ cried Phil. ‘The missus will be glad to see you.’

‘You’re married?’

‘Yes, we thought it was the respectable thing to do. Mrs Marshall is in the workroom.’

He led the way up rickety stairs to a room at the top. Miss Friendly – I’ll always think of her as that, thought Daisy – was stitching away at rich material. There were three other seamstresses in the room.

‘Miss Levine!’ cried Miss Friendly. ‘How good to see you. How is Lady Rose?’

‘Very well, but I am no longer her companion. I am married to Becket.’

‘How splendid.’

‘We did plan to start a salon with you,’ said Daisy severely.

‘I know. I am so sorry. But you were not in London and Mr Marshall was so ready to help.’

‘It’s all right,’ said Daisy. ‘Are you getting ready for the big opening?’

‘Oh, yes. I do hope you will come. I am going to be very bold. I am introducing a few “reform” clothes in my collection.’

These clothes were the original brainchild of the Reform Movement, which urged women to stop being ‘lust objects’. For a long time they had fought a losing battle against the corset, blaming that argument for every illness from sore throats to corns. Doctors complained that the absence of a corset weakened the muscles. They said, ‘A good corset is best, a bad corset is bad, no corset is worst.’

‘Do you think that is wise?’ asked Daisy. ‘These society ladies do not want to be comfortable. They change their clothes six times a day. Maybe they want to be lust objects.’

‘I am sure some of the more elderly women would welcome freedom from all the constrictions of fashionable dress.’

‘I saw an interesting gown in Paris for the working girl,’ said Daisy. ‘It was a navy-blue tailor-made with a washable blouse and a pleated skirt which showed the wearer’s entire foot.’

Miss Friendly looked shocked. ‘Exposing the whole foot! Oh, no, now that would be going too far.’

Daisy asked to see some of the collection and spent a pleasant hour before returning to Chelsea. The house was still empty and she wondered what Becket was doing.