Evelyn shifted a little in her seat, causing a bloom of dust to appear before it resettled itself. She lifted a hand to her ear, running the pads of her fingers across her earlobe. In court, such a movement might be used as a tension creator, a tiny pause in the pace designed to pull the judge up and think a moment about what was happening. Nobody would generally notice it, but Pip was trained to see these things. Then again, she might be overthinking it. It was probably just an unconscious gesture made without thought, as such movements generally were.

But Pip could play games, too. She was more than a match for Evelyn when it came to body language. She paused for a moment and cleared her throat, the sound a verbal tic to signal to her brain that she was ready to move on with her argument.

‘My mum tells me that you came back to have a baby,’ she said.

Evelyn’s demeanour changed instantly. Her sharp eyes narrowed and she pulled a little further back into her seat to increase the distance between them. Pip worried that she had overplayed her hand, gone in too far and too fast. She could kick herself. It wasn’t like her to make a tactical error like that. She was clearly out of practice in reading people. She gave her widest and most open smile to try to convey her harmlessness, but Evelyn still eyed her warily and the hint of warmth that had been kindled between them was gone.

‘Before we go any further,’ Evelyn said sharply, ‘I think you should tell me your name. Here you are in my house and you haven’t even introduced yourself.’

Blood rushed to Pip’s cheeks, and the carefully poised interrogator of the moment before deserted her.

‘Oh God, I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m . . .’ She hesitated.

Evelyn raised a suspicious eyebrow. Pip couldn’t blame her. What kind of person hesitated over their own name? She saw Evelyn’s fingers tighten around the diary in her lap.

‘It’s very complicated,’ Pip continued, although she could see Evelyn wondering how this could be true. Your name was generally your name, wasn’t it? Unless you had a stage name, or a pen name. Or you were lying.

Ignoring Evelyn’s apparently growing animosity, Pip began to explain. ‘Until recently I called myself Rose,’ she began. She could feel a sheen of tears glossing over her eyes and she blinked them away. This was not the time to cry, but she thought she saw Evelyn soften a little; something around the mouth, maybe, a certain curiosity in her gaze. ‘But my first name is Philippa, Pip. Pip Appleby.’

‘And why don’t you call yourself Rose any longer?’ Evelyn asked.

Pip took a deep breath and then let it out very slowly.

‘It’s a long story,’ she said.

‘I have all day,’ replied Evelyn.

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