“Probably.” Emma decided to abandon her mild attempt at levity. “Haven’t I ever told you my real name’s Josephine? It’s pretty, isn’t it? I sometimes think about taking it back again, but it’s probably too late now. Have you ever wished you had a different name?”

“No.” Rosie stared at her in surprise. “Why would I want that?”

“I don’t know. Some people do.”

“Well, I don’t see the point. Why are you talking about names, anyway?” Her eyes widened. “You’re not—”

“God, no. What sort of idiot do you think I am?” Neither Emma nor Rosie was the sort of young woman who would find herself unexpectedly pregnant.

“Good. We’ve got a busy summer coming up. How are the wedding plans, anyway?”

“Fine, thanks.” She smiled. After brunch, she had gone back with Lulu to Belsize Park for tea. “My sister Sophie’s latest plot has me descending from the sky by hot-air balloon accompanied by a harpist in medieval dress while the bridesmaids release a flock of doves to meet me coming down.”

“Doing what?”

“She’s just joking. Sophie’s an actress; she likes to weave fantasies.”

“Well, just so long as they stay that way. Weddings can get out of hand, remember, and even sensible people can get carried away.” She smiled reassuringly. She was fond of Emma. “Can’t see it happening to you, though,” she added.

“Probably not.” Emma sighed a little. “I saw some beautiful shoes in Manolete’s,” she said after a moment.

“Manolete’s?”

“The shoe shop on Upper Street? Sort of halfway down, next to Lily’s Flowers?”

“Don’t know it.” Rosie was not a person who sighed over shoes.

“Manolete’s?” Poppy, the office junior, had wandered in. “Is that the place that had the write-up in Grazia? Manolete the Michelangelo of the foot? My sister went there. She bought some amazing shoes, but they cost an arm and a leg. Her boyfriend said she’d spent more than he’d spent on his car. It’s a terrible old banger, mind. And they are seriously gorgeous shoes.”

“I couldn’t justify that money,” said Rosie. “Not for shoes. People are homeless.”

“Her boyfriend said they’d be homeless if she ever went there again. He was quite cross, actually. They’re seriously truly gorgeous shoes, and she and I thought they were worth every penny, but he said he’d like to take this Manolete and Michel his Angelo all the way to the bank.”

“I don’t understand people like that,” said Rosie. “Persuading people to spend more money than they can afford. It’s just wrong.”

“It depends on how you look at it,” said Emma. “Some people think that for really special shoes, it’s worth the money. And I met Manolete actually, yesterday. He seemed very nice.”

“You?” said Poppy. “Met Manolete? How?”

“We just met,” said Emma. She frowned at the younger girl. “Why? What’s odd about that?”

“I don’t know,” said Poppy. “I’d never have put you and him in the same room somehow. He’s all sort of fashionable and cutting-edge.”