Ruby tilts her head, considering. It’s quiet in this corner of the store. She can take her time. Just the two of them in the side room and all these beautiful things laid out on the table and counter for her to look at. Scarves, gloves of buttoned silk, a chinchilla stole with light brown ribbons.

‘Yes… I think you might be right, you clever thing. Something in scarlet, perhaps.’

‘Scarlet silk?’ The girl repeats, more earnest now, wanting to get it right. Her manager will be most impressed. She imagines the commission.

Scarlet is a daring shade for a store like this, and, although they sell them, Ruby knows that there is no scarlet silk scarf on open display. The girl will need to go to the back room to fetch one.

She pulls a face, turning this way and that to examine how the coat hangs.

‘I have the perfect thing next door, madam, if you don’t mind waiting.’

Ruby smiles now at the reflection of the girl standing next to her. It’s her signature, her trick, the smile. Conspiratorial. She smiles as though she is sharing a secret.

‘I really mustn’t delay. My husband is expecting me home soon. Do you think you can find it quickly?’ She touches the curl of hair behind her ear with her ungloved left hand, making sure that the girl sees the size of the diamonds on the ring she’s borrowed.

The girl grins, delighted to be sharing the confidence. Her teeth are like disorganised tombstones.

‘You won’t know I’m gone.’

She scurries back behind the enormous counter and disappears through the door.

Ruby Mills pulls five pairs of silk stockings from the countertop and pushes them into the cotton bag that is secreted under her skirts. She folds her old coat and loops it through the thick belt she is wearing along with the chinchilla stole from the table. She grabs a handful of the silk scarves that are on display – not scarlet, but greens and blues, and someone will want them – and shoves them up the sleeves of her new full-length mink.

She buttons up the coat, pausing for a fraction of a second before sliding several brooches from the countertop into the pockets.

She reaches for a fur muff on the table. She has one at home, but this is sable and too tempting. It’s also useful. She presses three pairs of kid gloves into the hand space. She acts quickly, in one easy, fluid movement, with the poise of a dancer.