Back at the house, Lotti went into the room where the jumble pile was stored, and rummaged through it for a pair of shorts, some boys’ shirts, pajamas, trousers and a jersey. She took them back to her room and packed most of the clothes into her rucksack, along with her toothbrush, a comb and her share of the money Sally had brought back from Great Barton for the necklace.

There were only a few things left to do.

First, Lotti went into the bathroom. She stood before the mirror. In one hand, she held a lock of her long curly hair. In the other, a pair of sewing scissors. Snip, snip, snip … She cut her hair until it was as short as Ben’s. Then she kicked off her boots, stepped out of her pinafore, peeled off her blouse and stockings, pulled on the shorts and jersey she had taken from the jumble and slipped her feet into a pair of rubber soled shoes. She looked at the mirror. A strange spiky haired creature looked back.

“Good,” said Lotti, then she swept her cut hair into a pile and took it down to the kitchen to burn it.

Nobody was going to tell her how to dress again, or pull her by the hair.

In a final act of defiance, she marched into her aunt’s bedroom and took back her mother’s lovely shawl. Then she threaded her father’s ring onto a piece of string and hung it round her neck.

By early evening, Lotti was ready, but she waited until it was dark before leaving, to reduce the chances of being seen. Shortly after nine o’clock, she shouldered her bulging knapsack, hugged Sally goodbye and set out across the garden of her childhood home.

At the gate, she stopped for a final look back.

“You and Sally are the only things I’ll miss,” she had told Zachy, but it wasn’t true.

She would miss everything.

Ben was ready.