They will tell the story over and over, Ruby knows. Part of the famous history of the Forty Thieves. Even Billy Walsh was impressed, and, under the watchful eye of Edith Lennox, he told her so. She was as gracious to him as she thought fit but pushed him away when he started to try it on. She was having too much fun being congratulated by everyone else.

Riding her luck, she had dragged Daisy Gould out for a drink. Sitting next to Ruby, Daisy was untouchable, whatever Freddy Moss might have thought about it. As the evening wore on, even Annie Richmond had forgotten that she was supposed to be shunning her and threw an arm over her shoulder. Daisy laughed and sang until she grew hoarse. They were all hoarse by the next morning. And thick-headed.

This morning, Saturday, Ruby climbs gingerly out of bed and discovers, to her surprise, that she is well again.

And hungry. She could eat a horse.

She staggers into the kitchen and picks up the kettle from the range. When she shakes it, as she always does, she finds enough water inside so sets it to boil. Solly has been in already – although only recently. There is a fire burning in the grate, recently laid and lit, but the kitchen is still chilly. She pokes the coals and rubs her hands against the young flames, trying to warm herself and rouse herself to a more cheerful mood. She no longer feels as though someone is pounding her temples with a mallet, but she is oddly flat.

‘Morning, Magpie. How’s the head this morning?’ Solly ambles in.

‘Couldn’t be better.’ She scoops tea into the pot. ‘Tea?’

The kettle begins to whistle. She pulls it from the fire and the screeching stutters and dies.

‘The coppers were around again yesterday.’

‘I thought I could hear something going on downstairs.’

‘I didn’t want to disturb you. Didn’t tell them you were here. Said I didn’t know where you were.’

‘Did they find anything?’

‘Of course not. Everything’s gone to Grace Bartlett’s for now. Annie’s orders. We’ll keep it all tucked away at the warehouse until the fuss has died down. I’ll have a better look before we move it on. There’s no hurry.’

Ruby stirs the tea and finds cups. ‘No, I suppose not.’

‘Cheer up, Magpie,’ Solly says, hearing the dull tone and guessing the reason for it. ‘You had a good day on Thursday – and a good night, too. There’ll be plenty more to come, just you see.’

‘Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.’ Ruby, rummaging for bread and eggs, does not turn around.

‘Anyway, there’s trouble at the Crown right now. You’d better lie low for a while.’

‘Trouble? What trouble?’ She faces him now, an egg in her hand.