‘Well, no, I wouldn’t,’ Ruby admitted grudgingly, ‘but if I am to be her manager I would want her fees paid directly to me and then I would pay her her share.’

And a pitiful share it will be, no doubt, Max thought, although he didn’t say it aloud. He had handled some of the biggest stars on stage and was well aware of the sums they were capable of earning, but he doubted that Kitty would ever become wealthy with Ruby as her manager. Even so, he knew that he must placate her, so he smiled at her disarmingly as he said, ‘I doubt Kitty is aware of just how lucky she is to have you as her aunt, my dear. With you to teach her all you know, she could well go to the top, which would be to all our advantages.’

At the compliment, Ruby’s good mood was restored and she simpered at him as she fluttered her eyelashes and tripped away to pour them both a drink.

Max had no illusions about Ruby. She was very spoiled and ridiculously vain. Over the years she had earned him a vast amount of money, but he had a funny idea that that might be as nothing compared to what Kitty might be capable of bringing in. He had no doubt that she could become a star, and he was genuinely excited about launching her onto the stage. But to achieve that, he would have to play his cards right – and above all, keep Ruby sweet.

The following morning at Treetops Children’s Home, Tom found Sunday hovering in the hallway. She started when she saw him and said guiltily, ‘I was just arranging these flowers.’ She then began to fuss with the blooms standing in a tall cut-glass vase on the hall table.

‘And very nice they look too,’ he said, sadly aware that in reality she was hovering, waiting for a sign of the postman, just as she had done each morning since Kitty had left.

‘Has the post come yet?’ he casually asked then, as he headed for his study.

‘Err … no.’ She lowered her eyes and added, ‘Perhaps we’ll have some word from Kitty today.’

‘Perhaps we will, pet. But don’t get worrying. She’s barely had time to settle in yet. I’m sure she’ll write as soon as she finds time.’

His wife nodded and Tom continued on his way with a frown on his face. He was beginning to wonder if Kitty would write, if truth be told. After all, she had been whisked off to a new way of life in London and she’d probably be enjoying herself. And, much as he hated to admit it, she certainly hadn’t taken much persuading when her mother’s maid had come for her. She’d been off to the bright lights like a shot from a gun! He supposed he couldn’t blame her really. Kitty had the world at her feet and looking back, he wondered if he and Sunday hadn’t kept too tight a rein on her when she’d lived with them. Perhaps they should have allowed her a little more freedom to go out and meet young people of her own age? The trouble was, because of her beauty Kitty had attracted attention wherever she went and Sunday had barely let her out of her sight for fear that some young rip might take advantage of her.