“Of course you will,” said Quesnel, “but that hardly improves security.” He didn’t await Percy’s rebuttal, instead lifting the speaking tube to engineering. “Aggie? Draw lots for shore leave. Three-quarters of an hour only, so pick a few with pocket watches. What? No, I don’t care if you use it as a reward. Why, has Spoo been acting up again? Well, if you don’t like the chit, reassign her, for goodness’ sake. I’m sure they could use the help on deck. Yes, yes, very good. Of course you have to stay – who else will make certain we take on the right amount of coal and water? Yes, well, that’s the way it is.” He put the tube down. “Sometimes, that woman!”

Rue looked at him in genuine surprise. “Only sometimes?”

Prim bustled off to consult the head steward and cook to determine who might be allowed off-ship and what supplies they required. She returned shortly, having somehow found the time to change into a walking suit of black taffeta with a pattern of embroidered rings in gold and burgundy. She wore a matching black hat perched forward on her head, decorated in gold braid and tufts of burgundy feathers and carried a black parasol.

“Very nice,” Rue said enviously.

“Thank you.” Primrose twirled for full effect. “Queen Mums chose this one as my shore-leave-expedition-and-visiting-over-curry outfit. She has odd notions about Indian foodstuffs, my Mums. I think she was traumatised during her own travels.”

Rue nodded. “Should I change?” Primrose was always wise in the matters of attire.

Primrose gave her a critical once-over. “No, I don’t think it necessary.”

Rue puffed under the praise. She couldn’t help it – Prim was just so elegant, it was nice to garner approval from her. “Shall we, then?”

The ladies linked arms and, without further ado, left the ship. Percy took that as permission to retreat to his library leaving Virgil at the helm. Quesnel, after a moment, strode after Rue and Prim. Rue peeked over her shoulder to see him making hasty repairs to his smudges with a large white handkerchief. She mourned the loss, and then reprimanded herself for it.

The two young ladies made their way along the long spatula handle towards the centre of the docking port. The whole tower was illuminated via a variety of artificial sources, from gas chandeliers and tubes of glowing orange fog to massive brightly coloured paper lanterns. Since they were clearly women of some standing, the dockworkers parted before them by rote. A few snide remarks were muttered as they passed but Rue and Prim stuck their noses in the air and pretended not to hear. Quesnel followed a few steps behind, eyes wary. The workers were mainly intent upon The Spotted Custard, dragging pipes, carts of fuel, and other necessities towards it.