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Back The Dazzle of the Light Save as PDF
Chapters (55)
  1. Praise for Georgina Clarke
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. Historical Note
  52. Acknowledgements
  53. Also by Georgina Clarke
  54. About the Author
  55. Copyright

She begins walking again, thoughts racing. He gave her a lot of money. Real cash – not something she has to pawn. She can spend it however she likes. She passes dressmakers, milliners, glove shops and florists. She moves lightly, her body humming with excitement at the possibilities. For a couple of hours, she can be whoever she wants to be – an heiress, a starlet, an exotic dancer or a high-stakes gambler from Monte Carlo waiting for Rudolph Valentino. She pulls the man’s gold watch from her pocket. It is half past nine. She has plenty of time to wander about the shops, trying on endless identities as she tries on hats, before joining up with Maggs and the others at Earl’s Court. She will certainly buy a new pair of gloves. She might even slip her hand into a few pockets, like she used to when she was younger. She should probably move to a different area, or at least a different street, though, just in case that dear gentleman realises he’s been picked. She thinks for a moment, then turns left, towards Chelsea.

10

10

Thursday, late morning

Harriet stands, arms folded, watching Robert Pickford. Her editor is in the reporters’ hall, in deep discussion with his chief news writer, Jimmy Cartwright, about his story. She is furious. The fury is so intense that she dares not speak, for fear of losing her temper, her job and the slim respect she’s earned at the Gazette in the last few months.

But it was her story. It was her story.

Pickford doesn’t look up. He doesn’t see anything except the words on Jimmy’s sheet of paper.

She can’t hear what they’re saying; the noise in the hall is as loud as ever. Their conversation is lost beneath the rattle of keys and impenetrable hum of voices as the roomful of men talk, share information and hammer out copy on their typewriters. But she knows that Pickford is asking for details from Jimmy. Details that she knows and he does not, because she was there when it happened.

News of yesterday’s raid at Mr Enderby’s jewellery shop will be all over Kensington and Chelsea by this evening – with Jimmy’s name attached to it.

Pickford wanders back to his office, talking to one or two of the other men as he goes.

Harriet waits, growing steadily angrier, until she sees Jimmy Cartwright making his way over to her.