His shoulders visibly sagged but his voice was icy when he told her, ‘Very well. I shall move my things out of our room straight away.’ He left the room without another word.

Once he had gone, Sunday’s face crumpled and she chewed on her knuckles as tears blinded her. To think that it had come to this, and worse still, to know that it was all her own stupid fault. If only we could have had a child of our very own, things might have been so different, she thought – and the resentment was back that another woman had given Tom what she could not. And why, oh why, had he never told her about the relationship with Cecile Randle?

It was much later that evening as Sunday was reading the newspaper after finishing her chores and seeing the children safely to bed that an article caught her eye.

MISS KITTY NIGHTINGALE, LONDON’S NEWEST STAR, TAKES HER AUDIENCE BY STORM!

Sunday read on and her heart began to beat faster. The article went on to say that Miss Kitty Nightingale, who had recently made her debut at the famous Palm Beach Club, was fast becoming a favourite on the music-hall stage, and although there was no photograph, the description they gave fitted Kitty to a T. Miss Fox had said that Kitty’s mother was a well-known music-hall performer – so could it be that this was their very own Kitty, following in her footsteps? It just seemed to be too much of a coincidence. Kitty had always loved singing and had the voice of an angel, so if this Miss Nightingale was her, surely it would make it easier for them to find her? As yet, the girl hadn’t written to them once, but perhaps now it would be worthwhile for Sunday and Tom to go London to track this singing star down. If it was their Kitty, it would be worth the trip. And at least it seemed as if their darling girl was safe and sound, and making quite a name for herself! Suddenly, she could hardly wait to talk to Tom.

‘So, what would you like to wear today?’ Maggie asked as she entered Kitty’s bedroom the following morning and placed her breakfast tray down on the table at the side of the bed.

Kitty blinked as Maggie swished the curtains aside, letting the morning sunshine flood into the room.

‘What time is it?’ she asked grumpily.

‘It’s gone nine o’clock and time you were up and dressed. Now as I asked before – what do you want to wear?’

Kitty perked up as she remembered that she would be spending the afternoon with Richard. ‘Well, seeing as I shall be modelling clothes today I don’t suppose it really matters what I arrive in. Just choose something you think will be suitable.’

Maggie crossed to the armoire and began to sort through the outfits hanging there, eventually picking out a smart blouse and skirt. She laid them across the back of a chair then went to pour Kitty a cup of tea.