‘So where are you from? Home counties?’

‘Cheltenham.’

‘Same difference. Well, I don’t know how you’ll get on with the other girls. Most of them come from the East End of London. I hope you don’t consider yourself too good for the job.’

She frowned. ‘Others?’

‘The dancers.’ He raised his brows and gave her a look. ‘Airs and graces won’t get you far here.’

‘I hope I can manage to fit in,’ she said, wanting him to go and pleased when he took a step away.

‘Well, I can’t waste any more time chatting,’ he muttered, and with that he turned a corner, took her up three flights of a narrow staff staircase and then stopped outside the first of four painted white doors lining a dark corridor. ‘This is you,’ he said and handed her a key. ‘You’ll be sharing with Rebecca.’

Sharing? Her spirits dipped a little bit. But then, she thought, it might turn out to be fun.

2.

It was the next morning before Belle met her room-mate. As she had lain in bed the night before, waiting for the girl to turn up, she’d fallen into an exhausted sleep, only lurching awake when the sound of buzzing roused her. Eager to start her new life, she sat bolt upright and stared at the window where a couple of gigantic flies – at least she thought they were flies – were batting at the glass angrily. Without any qualms, she threw back the thin cover, swung her legs to the floor and leant across to open the window.

The small attic room was painted off-white and furnished with two single beds – one, beneath the small window she’d just opened, was clearly already reserved. So, Belle had slept in the other. A single chest of drawers, a small desk and one wardrobe constituted the rest of the furniture. But when she’d pulled open the wardrobe door to hang some of her own things, she’d found it jam-packed with her room-mate’s clothes.

At a washbasin in the corner she splashed her face and hoped her pale skin would not turn into a mass of freckles in the harsh Burmese sunshine. Her compelling looks – sea-glass-green eyes, symmetrical oval face, wide mouth and straight nose – meant she stood out from the crowd and that had served her well when she’d auditioned for this job. Still in her nightdress, she brushed her hair, probably her best feature, and thought of her mother’s hair, a bit darker than her own, though Belle couldn’t say how true her memory was. It had been so long.

Now, while her room-mate was still absent, Belle opened the wardrobe again, wondering if her clothes might give an insight into the girl’s character. There was an awful lot of shiny red silk and she pulled out a skimpy dress to take a closer look.

The door flew open and someone burst in.