The door across the dancefloor opens and Peter appears, in company with the General, Billy Walsh and another man. She brightens when she sees him. She is wearing the diamond earrings he gave her and hopes that he will approve, but he is deep in conversation and does not notice her. Instead, it is Billy who catches sight of her and crosses to the counter.

He gives a low whistle. ‘You look like a film star. Can I buy you another drink?’

‘I don’t think you can afford my company these days, Billy Walsh.’

He pulls a face. ‘I heard you were working for Mr Lazenby.’

‘Well, I wasn’t going to starve waiting for someone in the Borough to throw me their scraps, was I? Besides, Peter knows a diamond when he sees one. He appreciates my many talents.’

‘Really? What other talents do you have?’

‘Fuck off, Billy. Does Edith know you’re out? Don’t look at me like that. I know you’re back with her. You might have waited. You might have said something. I had to hear it from Florrie.’

He stares sullenly at the counter. ‘What was I supposed to do? After what you did? But I know Annie’s taken you back now. Maggs told me you were on a job near Bond Street. You should go home. Stay with the Forties. This is no place for you.’

‘And I’ve told you, I please myself. I look out for myself. I always have. I certainly don’t need you telling me what to do. Why don’t you skip home to Edith Lennox? I’m sure she’ll have made you a lovely supper. She’s probably waiting for you now, wondering where you are while your cabbage is going cold.’

A man at the bar, a leather bag slung over his shoulder like a telegram boy, watches them. He’s not the usual sort of Angel customer. He is cradling a small glass of whisky as if he is trying to make it last all night. No money. Ruby dismisses him.

‘Aw, come on, darling, don’t give me a hard time,’ Billy entreats her, turning on the charm. ‘You know how it is with Annie, how we all have to dance to her tune, but now you’re back, how about it…?’ He runs an arm around her waist, and she feels the familiar sensation of his thumb stroking her back, where he knows she likes to be touched. ‘You and me?’

Peter is suddenly there, behind Billy, with a hand on his shoulder, gently prising him away.

‘It’s been useful to see you tonight, Mr Walsh. I’ll leave the situation with you, yes?’ He is businesslike, but he is telling Billy to leave – and to leave her.

Billy knows it, too. There is little doubt who is in charge in the club. He shoves his hands into his pockets.