He lays the ring on the battered wooden tray next to his jar of green glass, each sliver fractionally different in shade from its neighbour, from bright yellowy grass to darkest bottle or Hooker’s green. He has collected them, over the years – picked them out of mud and dust on the streets and added them to his jar. Ruby, who will notice anything that catches the light, used to do this, too, when she was younger. Even now, sometimes she will stop mid-stride, bend down, lift a chip of glass from the gutter, pocket it and bring it home. Solly has four jars, respectively containing various red, blue, green and clear glass splinters.

‘Well, we’re relying on your eyes, Ruby. I hope you haven’t lost your knack.’ While you’ve been out of the Forties, he doesn’t say.

‘I haven’t.’

He sits back in the chair and surveys her with nearly the same attention he gives the stones: as if checking for a flaw or crack.

‘Tell me about it, how it went. Maggs said you did well.’

Maggs wouldn’t know. She was outside all the time. If anything had gone wrong, if the shopkeeper had suspected her at all, she would have been on her own. Annie Richmond wanted Ruby on the job, but she would have sacrificed her to carry it out.

It had been a test of both her skill and her loyalty – her willingness to act without anyone to help her, for the Forties.

‘I played the part, like I always do. Pretended I was someone else.’

‘Who were you? Leading lady from one of your moving pictures?

‘No, not this time.’ She hesitates, wondering whether to tell him. ‘Someone I met.’

‘Oh? Anyone I know?’

‘Hardly. This one’s a proper lady. From Kensington. Soft around the edges. She walks like she’s gliding on air. Rich – and about to be richer still.’

‘How come?’

‘She’s marrying a man who’s loaded with money. You should see the ring he’s given her, Solly. Marquise-cut diamond the size of a thumbnail, edged with twelve smaller stones. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘I’m surprised you’ve not nicked it, then,’ Solly laughs.

‘I’m surprised myself.’ She picks a chip of apple-coloured glass from the tray and lifts it to the light. It’s the first time he’s laughed with her for ages. Weeks.

‘How did you meet a woman like that?’

‘I don’t know. It’s like she’s following me around. She saw me with Billy, when we did that jeweller’s shop in South Ken. She just stared at me, like she was peering into my soul. And then I saw her in Debenham and Freebody and she knew who I was.’

‘Doesn’t everyone?’ he chuckles, picking up the spare chips and dropping them back into the jar.