The afternoon wore on into evening. Just as the doorman had said, the pub started to fill as we drank our drinks: red wine for me and whisky for Lucien. It was warm and smoky and, as a steady flow of patrons entered, many stopped to greet each other. Others pulled up chairs at tables already packed. Two women perched together on a single seat. It wasn’t clear if it was their fathers, lovers or brothers who had brought them. I watched the handshakes and the embraces hungrily. I wanted that camaraderie for myself.

‘I will get you another, Zillah,’ Lucien said as I drained my glass.

This time I felt confident enough to let him go to the bar on his own. I watched as he crossed the small space. There were only a handful of other women in the place. One fair like me, the others darker-skinned like Lucien. One of the darker women had a glass of wine too, and she sipped it as daintily as any of Vincent’s fine friends. I’d thrown mine down like it was gin. I’d have to pace myself with the next. Already I could feel it going to my head. All four women had noticed Lucien, I could tell, and I felt a burst of pride that he’d brought me here with him. Surely it must mean something over and above the search for the Leopard Lady that he was willing to show me off like this. It wasn’t only the women. The men responded to him too. I saw one or two nod to him, another raise his glass. And he stopped to talk to a third before he reached the bar. Once there he told Augustus his order before bending down to scratch the bitten ears of a white bulldog that I’d noticed playing up to the other punters earlier in the evening.

‘Excuse me, miss?’

The man who spoke wore a long apron and held a cloth in his hand. One of the Dog and Duck’s staff, I guessed, and smiled, but the apologetic look on his face put me on my guard.

‘You can’t be here,’ he said.

It was what I’d been dreading. No sooner had I started to feel at ease than I was given a reminder that I didn’t belong.

‘What do you mean?’ I said, my voice sounding small and faraway, but then Lucien was there.

‘What’s this?’ Lucien put down the two glasses he carried in his hands and turned to face the waiter. Instantly I felt better. I could look after myself, of course, but in this pub, where I felt off-centre, I was grateful for this one moment when I didn’t have to.

‘I was explaining that you must move,’ the waiter said, taking a step back. ‘There will be dancing now,’ he added when Lucien frowned at him.