‘Oh, Ethel,’ Miss Mayfield said in genuine dismay, ‘I am sorry. You were so exactly right. It was the one piece of casting that pleased me more than any of the others. And now with Juliet gone, and Christine, I’m very short of tall girls. Couldn’t you persuade her to change her mind?’

‘No.’

‘Do you think I could?’

‘No. And, Miss, I’d rather you didn’t try.’

‘Did she give you any reason?’

‘Yes.’

Miss Mayfield waited, for the reason, but Ethel remained silent.

‘Don’t you think I’m entitled to know the reason? I’m the one who is placed in an awkward position.’

‘I can tell you what she said.’ There was the faintest possible emphasis on the last word. ‘She said she don’t hold with dressing up and play-acting.’

‘But that isn’t the real reason. There is another.’

Ethel gave a nod. ‘Between her and me.’

‘And you can’t tell me what it is? You know, Ethel, anything you said to me would be in the strictest confidence. You can trust me. There’s something . . . not quite right between you and your grandmother, isn’t there? I’ve suspected it all along.’

‘I know that. So does she.’

‘Don’t you think, if we talked it over, we might find a way out?’

‘It’s something no amount of talk could alter. It would make it worse. I,’ said Ethel with a kind of stoic pride, ‘never said anything. Sydney went blabbing. Then that time she give me the hiding, you saw for yourself. All I’m saying now is that I can’t be Mary Queen of Scots.’

‘And all I’ve said is that I’m sorry. But that isn’t the important thing. I’m fond of you, Ethel. I want you to be happy.’

‘I shall be quite all right now. I don’t much mind not being in the scenes.’

‘I mind for you.’

‘You don’t have to fret about me. I can manage now.’

Just then the door to the cloakroom opened, and there was Mrs Rigby, wearing an old-fashioned straw hat, black, trimmed with pink and blue cornflowers.

‘Excuse me, Miss. I watched all the others come out, and no Ethel . . . So I took the liberty.’

Before Miss Mayfield could speak, Ethel said in a whiny voice:

‘It’s the sums. I was kept in.’ She jerked her head towards the blackboard, upon which there were some sums.

What presence of mind; what an ability to sum up a situation!

‘Could she do her keeping-in tomorrow, Miss? You see, we had an appointment with Mrs Head the dressmaker. Ethel’s winter dress.’

‘If I’d known you were waiting, Mrs Rigby . . .’

‘I expect Ethel forgot.’

‘I was all muddled up with the sums.’