He’s not bad-looking for an older man; he’s rich, charming and he’s offering champagne. It’s sliding down very easily and she’s drinking on an empty stomach. Too much more of it and she’ll be developing a close acquaintance with his bedside table, she knows.

‘I like you, too, Peter Lazenby. And I’d like to stay here, enjoying your company, but…’ Her eye is caught by the sight of Billy, emerging from a door in the far corner, his arm wrapped around a girl she doesn’t know. ‘I came to meet Billy Walsh, so I’d better go and meet him. Thanks for the drink.’

He stands to let her pass, touching a hand to the small of her back in just the right place to send a spark of fire through her. ‘Come and find me later then. Come and have another glass with me.’

She steps away. ‘Perhaps I will.’

The prickling sensation of arousal quickly disappears as she threads her way through the tables and chairs. Billy hasn’t noticed her; he’s too entranced by the girl he’s with. He’s laughing at something she’s saying – that exaggerated sort of laugh he does when he’s turning on the charm. Like you’re the most fascinating girl in the whole of London. This creature is blonde, with fluffy, wispy hair that surrounds her face, like a dandelion clock you’d find in the dirt down by the canal. She seems bored or half-asleep. Perhaps that’s the attraction: she’s ready for bed already. She’s barely more than a child – an unusual choice for Billy.

‘Billy Walsh, I want to talk to you.’ There’s a lull in the music as the small orchestra swaps over with another, and her voice carries across the floor, shriller than she would like. A screech from south of the river. Billy hears her, certainly. He stands still and stares across at her, a guilty expression on his face, as though he’s been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin, or up someone’s blouse.

The woman stiffens, sensing a rival. Ruby dismisses her as offering little threat. She has none of the power in her shoulders or hands that Maggs does, or even Edith. Ruby could knock her over with a swing of a handbag.

‘Billy. A word. Just a word. Then you can carry on enjoying yourself.’ Whatever business he’s planning to conduct tonight, Ruby knows exactly what sort of business has been going on already. She can see it in his face. She can smell it.

He unwraps himself from the girl and pushes her gently towards the bar, promising her a drink later.

‘I need a little bit of something else, lover. Something to pick me up.’ She talks in a squeaky, babyish voice.