Sibyl reached forward, placing her hands atop Effie’s lying on the sides of the bath. ‘I won’t leave you alone for a single second. I’ll be by your side all night. Everyone’s going to love you.’ Her eyes were shining. ‘We’ll tell them about your climbing! I nearly died when you scooted past the window last night and all our friends love a skill, you know! They so wish they could have some of their own. They’ll be enthralled by you!’

Effie felt a surge of panic. ‘But I have nothing to wear,’ she said desperately. There had to be a way to get out of it.

‘Of course you do! You must borrow something of mine. Whatever you like. What is mine is yours. Go and choose. The jewellery too.’ Her eyes brightened further. ‘And we’ll get Jenny to do your hair and maquillage too; she can do it just the same as she does mine and we can be like sisters.’

‘It really isn’t necessary—’

‘Of course it is! You simply have to let me make things up to you. I don’t know how I can forgive myself if you don’t.’

Effie felt steam-rollered. She had seen the young woman’s excitement from afar but to be in the full glare of it . . . It was like sitting in a hurricane and letting the winds blow. But if this was what it was to be friends with her. If this meant she and Sholto could be allowed to be friends too . . . She knew he meant to avoid her again. Weeks might go by before she could even set sights upon him. ‘All right.’

‘Marvellous!’ Sibyl beamed, playfully flicking a small spray of bubbles towards her. ‘Take your time in here. I need to refresh and change my clothes too but come to my room when you’re ready. Oh this will be such fun!’ She jumped from the chair, noticing Effie’s clothes lying in a heap on the floor. ‘And I’ll give these to Jenny too, while I’m at it.’ Her nose wrinkled slightly at the sticky stains. ‘Then she can have them laundered for you, all clean for tomorrow.’

‘That’s really not necessary. I can do it.’

‘Don’t be silly. There’s some stains here that will need some work if we’re to get them out.’ She inspected the beetroot bleed on Effie’s hand-knitted woollen vest before looking back at her with kind eyes. ‘It’s the very least I can do. Let me spoil you. I’m trying to show you I’m sorry, remember?’

Effie gave a wry smile. ‘It’s not that. I’m grateful for all your kindness, but if you take those clothes – I’ve nothing to wear when I come out of here.’