Margaret sat down and glanced out the window. ‘You are sure that Robert was aboard that train?’

Ann gave her a weary look. ‘If he was not, why is he not home, Margaret? Or why have we not heard from him?’

There was a tap at the door and Jessie came in carrying a broad tray, which she set on the table beside them. ‘’Scuse me, ladies, but Mrs Baxter says she’s put out some of her yellow cake for you.’ She began clanging with the silver teapot and china cups and saucers as Ann stood up and went over to inspect the tray.

‘Have some of Mrs Baxter’s cake, Margaret. It’s always excellent.’ She put her hand to her throat and swallowed. ‘I for one cannot eat a thing.’ She turned to the maid and gestured to the decanter of Madeira on the cabinet. Jessie scuttled over and poured two glasses.

Margaret lifted her glass to her lips. Over the rim, her beady grey eyes were just visible. She was blinking uneasily. ‘Ann, have you heard a diver is going down this afternoon?’

Ann’s blue eyes widened. ‘I hadn’t. Do they still think there might be survivors?’

Margaret shook her head. ‘They do not, but the diver might find some clue about the bod… the passengers, Ann.’

‘I simply cannot understand how this ghastly accident can have happened,’ said Ann, ringing the bell on the table. ‘Jessie, have Baxter come here at once.’

‘There’s talk the structure of the bridge was weakened by the wind,’ continued Margaret. ‘I don’t recall such a storm, ever. Certainly not in my lifetime. Archibald’s mother reminded us of the terrible gale in the winter of 1853, when the Tay was almost frozen over for weeks. But she said even that was nothing compared to last night’s wind.’ Margaret put down her glass. ‘It’s remarkable how her memory fails her on day-to-day matters but events years ago she never forgets.’

‘And yet consider the change today, the river is like a millpond.’

‘Ann, might it be worth sending a telegram to Robert’s aunt to confirm that he left the house at the usual time for that train? To eliminate all doubt?’

Ann nodded. ‘A good idea. Why did I not think of that? She too will be worrying; the news is bound to have travelled far and wide.’

‘Yes, I heard that Her Majesty the Queen had even sent a message to Sir Henry, expressing her sorrow at the calamity.’

‘Sir Henry could never have imagined his work as provost of this great city would cause him to encounter such sadness.’ She looked up. ‘Enter!’

Baxter stood at the door, overcoat on, cloth cap in hand. ‘Mrs Craig?’