She entered her bedroom and took down the suitcase from the top of her wardrobe, then methodically began to pack her most treasured possessions. Once she’d finished, she glanced briefly around the room, making sure that she hadn’t forgotten anything. Heaving the case off her bed, she descended the stairs and headed towards the front door. As she passed her mother’s room she decided to take one last look before leaving. She wandered over to the window which looked out over the garden. Her mother had spent many an hour gazing at the tulips and dahlias which filled the flower bed outside. Turning, Olivia’s eye fell on her mother’s dressing table. She picked up the mother-of-pearl-backed mirror and gazed at her reflection. How many times had she brushed her mother’s hair with the matching hairbrush? She recalled the last morning her mother had been alive.

‘Having my hair brushed always makes me feel better,’ Catherine had said, as Olivia gently patted her mother’s hair into place, ‘like I’m still part of things.’

She had smiled as Olivia held up the mirror so that she could see the result of her efforts. ‘You should be a hairdresser, Liv. It’s not easy making me look presentable these days, yet you still manage it.’

Now, as silent tears escaped, she flipped open the catches of her suitcase and placed the mirror and hairbrush on top of her clothes and was about to turn away when she saw the small keepsake box which she had given her mother for her last birthday. Picking it up, she placed it beside the mirror and hairbrush. She closed the case and headed back towards the front door. Glancing in the direction of her father’s study, she wondered briefly whether she should tell him she was about to leave, then thought better of it. That would be playing the same game as him. She had said she was leaving, and he hadn’t tried to stop her.

Olivia opened the front door, breathed in the evening air, and closed it firmly behind her. If her father was silly enough to turn his back on her, then there was nothing that could be done about it. She would step forward into a new life, with exciting opportunities, just as her mother had wanted her to do.

A fortnight after burying her mother, Olivia headed for the town hall, which they were using to recruit volunteers. Once she got there, she joined the end of the queue which stretched along the length of the pavement. She glanced curiously around at the other women to get the measure of those who had chosen to sign up. She couldn’t help noticing that they were all considerably slimmer than she was. A small group of men further up the queue had evidently noticed the same thing, sniggering and making rude gestures in her direction. Turning her back, Olivia did her best to ignore them, but if anything it made matters worse as they now had to speak louder in order to make sure she heard their opinions.