‘I’m sure you’re a great comfort to her,’ said Doris, her vowels almost strangled in her effort to maintain what she considered to be an upper-class accent. ‘My Anthony is married now and living some distance away, but I know it’s a tremendous comfort to him when I make my very rare visits to him and his little family.’ Her gaze went to the silver-framed photograph on a side table. ‘That’s my little grandson, Teddy,’ she said proudly.

‘He looks a bonny little chap,’ Dolly said, dutifully admiring the laughing baby. ‘I’m so glad you manage to get to see them all when travel is so very difficult these days.’

‘One has ways and means when one knows the right people to approach,’ said Doris smugly. ‘You also must have influential friends to be able to come down here at such a time.’

Dolly nodded in silent acknowledgement, delighted that the conversation was going in the right direction. ‘It certainly helps,’ she agreed, ‘but I was rather surprised to learn that Mrs Braithwaite obtained a travel permit. I didn’t think she moved in such elevated circles.’

Doris lifted her chin and sniffed in disdain. ‘She’s no better than she should be, and women like that always find a way to get round authority,’ she said snootily.

Dolly thought that was a bit rich coming from a woman who clearly flouted the law by purchasing things off the black market and probably used bribes to circumnavigate the extremely strict travel bans. But she showed none of her thoughts, and kept her smile.

‘I always thought Mrs Braithwaite was rather respectable – for a landlady of a pub,’ she added for Doris’s benefit.

‘Hmph. Respectable is as respectable does,’ said Doris scathingly. ‘No lady would own a public house, let alone be seen with the likes of Ronan Reilly – a most disreputable and unsavoury character.’ She gave a delicate shudder. ‘But then you must know that, having been friends with Margaret for so many years. I don’t know how you can bear to be under the same roof as him when you stay at Beach View.’ Doris soothed her ruffled feelings with another sip of black market sherry.

Dolly held her temper and puffed on her cigarette. ‘I did hear that Mrs Braithwaite has had her head turned by a certain rather dashing major,’ she said, with all the eagerness of a genteel gossip. ‘Do tell me how that came about.’