‘I don’t think it works like that, Polly. Some diseases are too strong for us, but one day soon someone will find a way to cure them.’

‘Jack would have loved that show, all them lights and noises and colours. I’d love to make dresses and costumes like them. The way they shimmered in the light… Theatre costumes have to be different from everyday ones, don’t they? They have to stand out and sparkle so you can see them right up in the Gods… sparkling like lights in the dark. Fireworks. It cheers you up to see all them colours. I suppose wedding dresses are a bit like that, an’ all?’ Polly smiled and her tired face relaxed for once.

‘I’ve never thought of it like that before but you ’re right. For one day in her life a girl puts away her everyday clothes to be lit up like a holy candle, shining before the altar so everyone can see her.’

‘A bit of magic, like a rainbow painting the sky. There isn’t much magic about in Leeds, is there? But we’re magicians, making costumes for magic to happen. Was your wedding magic?’

Netta felt her answering voice tremble. ‘It was wartime, not that long ago but things were different. Many of us were calico brides, not shiny satin ones like nowadays, but we felt like shining stars inside just the same. Yes, love, it was a sort of magic.’

No use telling this girl that magic never lasts. Polly knew that already.

*

Matron took the helpers back to her office for a snifter and they helped her wrap up the last of the children’s presents. Afterwards Drew offered to run everyone home. He was in no hurry to drive up to Ilkley, making sure he did a complicated detour which dropped Netta off last of all.

‘Happy Christmas!’ He paused and shut off the engine. ‘Can I come in and see your decorations?’ He’d been feeling decidedly queasy all evening, the after effect of all the kids’ shouting and the whisky.

‘Shouldn’t you be going back? Ginnie will be waiting for you…’

‘Like hell she will! The party’s been going on for hours already. I’ll turn up when most of them have gone. To be honest I can’t stand some of the hunting crowd – such bores. Horses, horses, horses is all they talk about. It’s cold standing out here but the view looks good to me.’ He wasn’t looking at the stars.

‘You’re half cut again. Oh, Drew, I thought you’d turned your back on the bottle,’ Netta sighed, green eyes wide with disapproval.

‘It’s Christmas! I shall have to tank myself up to get through Christmas with the Mackeevers.’

‘What about your own family?’

‘Far away overseas still.’ He paused in the doorway to the little room. ‘This is cosy and beautifully furnished. All handmade, I expect?’

‘Of course.’