It’s a shame it’ll go to Solly. She pouts a little at the thought of parting with it.

‘You wear it very well, miss,’ the jeweller says. ‘Perhaps on an evening gown…’

She flashes him a smile. ‘Oh, yes!’ Her voice is breathy with excitement. ‘I have just the gown for it – in midnight blue.’ The gown exists in her imagination.

‘I know the one,’ says Billy. ‘You’re right. You can wear it for Mr Chaplin’s party.’

The jeweller’s face lights up. He might not be as committed to the moving pictures as his daughter, but he’s heard of Charlie Chaplin. Billy ignores the man’s sudden interest and focuses on the jewellery.

‘You have some fine rings.’

Ruby giggles and lays the diamond crescent brooch on the counter. ‘You going to buy me a ring, Billy?’ She nudges him, sharing a private joke, forgetting for a moment that she should not be using his name.

He gives a short laugh. ‘Not that sort of ring, sweetheart. My wife won’t share me, and I can’t afford the divorce. But yeah, I’ll buy you something you can wear every day, not just on a party gown.’

The jeweller checks his disapproval. No one can afford morality these days. He needs the money too much.

‘What about this one?’ Billy points to a neat ruby ring.

‘An excellent choice, sir,’ the man interjects, before Ruby grumbles about the smallness of it. ‘Or perhaps the lady would like something…’ He doesn’t say ‘larger’, but simply points to a more substantial gem.

Ruby gives him her most radiant smile as he pulls it from the tray. She tugs off her glove and drops it over the brooch on the counter before slipping the ring onto her finger. It fits very well. She admires it, stretching out her hand for the men to see.

‘I adore it. I truly adore it,’ she says to them both. She means it.

‘You can’t wear it yet, baby,’ Billy chides her, as if she’s a child. ‘Your birthday isn’t until tomorrow.’

‘Oh, but I want to wear it now!’

‘No, I want to give it you tomorrow morning, when it’s just the two of us…’ He leans in towards her and whispers something into her ear, making her giggle.

The jeweller looks uneasy again but offers his suggestion of a compromise as he coughs and looks away. ‘I have a small box for it,’ he says. ‘You should have a box for it anyway, miss, to keep it safe and clean. Let me find it.’

This is it. This is the moment.

The old man turns away to look for the ring box in a drawer behind him.