May said little as Laure took her on the museum tour except to enquire how many rooms there were. ‘Three on this floor, four upstairs making seven altogether, plus the offices. It is difficult as the rooms are different sizes and we are always pressed for space. The largest must have been a reception room and the smallest we think was probably a powder closet. Most of the floors are still original. You can tell by the width of the floorboards.’ She continued. ‘You will know from when you were here the other day that you start here and progress through three rooms following the sens de visite arrows. Then up the back staircase. Through those rooms and back down the main staircase, which is tricky as it’s narrow. But it can’t be helped.’

May circled around. ‘It’s very quaint and atmospheric, perhaps disturbing but definitely quaint.’

‘The objects represent something other than “quaint”,’ said Laure tartly.

May stopped dead. ‘Oh, Lord. I have this rule to sit on the folksy words from home but that one sneaked past.’ There was a suggestion of panic. ‘I don’t mean to make the museum sound hokey.’

‘Home?’

‘Alabama.’ She grimaced. ‘Mint juleps, pie, Jim Crow.’ She gestured with both hands. ‘Craziness. Suffering. Heat. All that.’

May Williams had been glad to escape. ‘So, a refugee?’

May made a non-committal noise and peered into the main display case. ‘A railway ticket? What’s the language?’

A second elapsed before Laure replied. ‘Czech.’

‘Ah, yes, I think it was photographed for the interview you did with the Italian? It made a noise in the Czech Republic, who are a bit antsy about being reminded of the bad days under the commies.’

Laure turned away. ‘I believe it did.’

In the second room there were three display cabinets. May pointed to the first. ‘I wanted to ask you. What’s with the matchbox?’

‘If you look closely there’s a milk tooth. Seven-year-old Jamie brought it in.’

‘A child?’

‘Do you know many children? I don’t but, it turns out, they’re fierce guardians of promises and know immediately when they’ve been broken. Jamie’s father had promised him that he would be left money by the Tooth Fairy when his baby teeth dropped out. It was fine for the first two teeth but, by the third, Jamie’s father had gone and the Tooth Fairy with him.’

May made to place her hand on the glass but thought better of it. ‘Couldn’t Jamie’s mother have left the money?’

‘I suspect she wanted to show her ex-husband up. She brought Jamie in and he gave me the matchbox and told me the Tooth Fairy was a big liar.’ Jamie’s little face had been wounded and furious in equal measure. ‘He was talking about his father.’

‘So little Jamie’s distress and sadness are on display.’