‘Of course not,’ Ruby denied, a little too quickly for the older woman’s liking. ‘You’ve heard Kitty sing. She has the voice of an angel and she wants to be on stage – so who am I to hold her back?’

‘Hmm!’ Phyllis Fox still wasn’t convinced and decided there and then that from now on, she would be keeping a very careful eye on things.

The next morning Kitty was down in the hall waiting for the postman as usual, but once again there was no letter from Sunday and after the postman had gone she trooped into the drawing room with a miserable expression on her face. Mabel found her there when she went in with a feather duster.

‘Are you all right, miss?’ Kitty had a face as long as a fiddle.

‘Yes, I’m fine thanks, Mabel. I’m just disappointed that I haven’t received a letter from home as yet, that’s all. I’m beginning to think they have forgotten me.’

‘I’m sure they haven’t, miss. But this is your home now.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Kitty sighed.

‘Look, I have to go out in a while to do some shopping for Cook. Why don’t you come along an’ keep me company?’ Mabel suggested kindly. ‘It won’t be very exciting but at least it will get you out of the house.’

Kitty brightened instantly. ‘I’d like that. Thank you, Mabel, but can’t you please call me Kitty? “Miss” is so formal.’

Mabel glanced towards the door. ‘Well, all right then … but only when we’re on our own. Miss Ruby wouldn’t like it if she heard me being over-familiar.’

The two girls set off with a basket and a list of things Cook needed, and when they reached the local market in Fulham, the sights and smells reminded Kitty of the market back in Nuneaton and she pattered happily after Mabel, eyeing the goods on the various stalls. The first part of the market consisted of stalls selling food: fruit and vegetables, fish, meat and one selling freshly baked bread and cakes. Mabel went from one to another efficiently purchasing and ticking off the list of things Cook had asked her to get, and then the girls went on to the second part of the market where the stalls stocked everything from brooms and buckets to ribbons and bows. Kitty was relieved to leave the food market behind. The sight of hungry-looking children scavenging beneath the stalls for bruised fruit or anything edible they could find was very disturbing. She herself had never known what it was to go hungry, and she could only imagine how hard life must be for the poor little waifs.

‘Would you just look at that colour,’ Mabel said dreamily as she fingered a length of sea-blue ribbon. ‘Wouldn’t you feel grand with that in your hair.’

‘Why don’t you treat yourself to it?’ Kitty suggested.

Mabel snorted. ‘I can’t be wasting money on fripperies. My wages go straight to my mum when I get paid. At least that way I know my brothers and sisters will eat, unless our dad finds the money first, that is, then it just goes straight over the bar of the Skinners Arms.’