Petra jumped up from the hard wooden chair. “I need to ask a favor, Louisa. If you can’t give me that then I need some advice. I can wait for as long as you like if you have lots of patients.”

“The surgery’s closed for an hour for lunch,” Louisa said. “I was about to get something to eat. D’you care to join me?”

“Absolutely. Where do you go around here for lunch?” The Grays Inn Road was not a part of London with which she was familiar. Grays Inn was one of the four inns of court, exclusively inhabited by the legal profession and the hospital.

Louisa laughed. “Certainly not the Savoy, or anywhere like it. But there’s a café on the corner, popular with junior law clerks. They do a good cheese and bacon sandwich, or steak pie. Cheap and cheerful for the impoverished young men slaving away for the barristers.”

“Where do the barristers eat then?” Petra inquired, following Louisa back into her office.

“Oh, they have their own watering holes,” Louisa said dismissively, putting on a serviceable tweed coat. “They don’t welcome women, particularly women alone.” She crammed on a close-fitting wool hat. “If they don’t want me, I don’t want to be there.”

“Quite,” Petra agreed. Louisa and her mother, Elizabeth, the first woman ever to qualify as a doctor in England, were active suffragists as well as medical professionals and Petra knew both through her work with the Union.

The café was noisy, smoky and smelled of grease, none of which seemed to trouble Louisa, who seemed a well-known figure there, greeted by customers and waitress alike. Petra followed her friend’s lead and took a seat at a stained wooden table for two against a wall that seemed to drip condensation.

“The food’s much better than you might imagine from the surroundings,” Louisa whispered, pushing across a dog-eared menu. “The day’s specials are on the chalkboard above the counter.”

Petra looked over at the board. Split pea soup with ham, and spotted dick for pudding appeared to be on offer. “The soup looks good,” she said after a doubtful glance down at the menu, which featured sausage, egg and chips as well as the recommended ale pie and cheese and bacon sandwich.

“Yes, I’ll have the same,” Louisa said briskly, unbuttoning her coat. She signaled to the lone waitress. “Two of the soup special, Maude, please, oh, and a half pint of cider.” She glanced at Petra. “What are you drinking? If you don’t feel like strong tea, cider or water’s your best bet.”

“Just water, then,” Petra replied, settling back on her chair, thrusting her gloves into her coat pockets.