‘I’m so sorry, Betsy. So very sorry. I won’t stop your employment. I need you with me, as a friend, but we will have to manage that if . . . Well, like I say, I need to think it all through. I’m not sure if my conclusion will be to stop my marriage, but if not, I will have to assert myself within that marriage. I have to be who I am. I am sacrificing too much – I’m losing myself.’

‘Aye, I knaw what you mean by that. You’re not the same lass as I waved off to war, in your pristine uniform and with a smile on your face, and a look that said you were going to beat the bloody Kaiser all on your own.’

They both laughed at this, and as they did so, Mags felt something change inside her. She was ready to stand up to Harold, to confront him; and she would do so on his own ground. She’d leave for London tomorrow. Surprise him and find out if her fears were correct. She knew where to find him. He’d be in his own home, as she was sure it was habitable by now.

At this thought she felt a little trepidation, but she brushed it aside. She had to do this. She had to find the mettle she used to have. She needed to once more become the strong young woman that Betsy had reminded her of.

‘Eeh, lass, you seem to have grown ten feet tall.’

Mags smiled; yes, she had sat up very straight as this conclusion occurred to her, and she knew she was ready. Ready to face all that she had to.

I can do this – I can!

Chapter Seven

The streets of London both thrilled and frightened Mags. She wondered if she would ever get used to it, for she felt as nervous now as she had on her first visit – when she was setting off to go to war. Then she had covered up by showing a confidence that she hadn’t felt. She smiled as she remembered how she must have appeared to Ella and Flors, as she’d dealt with it by being over-exuberant.

On subsequent visits to Harold’s home she had travelled down in Harold’s car, or had been met off the train. But now finding her way was down to her, and it had all been easier than she’d thought, as there were plenty of cabs just outside the station.

The hustle and bustle of folk who all seemed to have something urgent to attend to left her feeling like a country bumpkin. And she was struck by the vast contrast between poverty and wealth as she witnessed beggars, ragged children and the glamour of the glittering shops and gleaming cars vying with horse-drawn carriages around the streets of Knightsbridge. Newsboards were full of British troops invading Dublin, something her father thought was not before time, but she thought differently about it, feeling some sympathy for the Irish cause, if not for their means of dealing with their grievances.