‘She forced me to take the wretched thing, and before I could protest, she’d climbed back into that ridiculous car and was being driven off.’ Doris puffed furiously on her cigarette, clearly still ruffled by what she saw as impertinence by someone from the lower orders.

‘In the circumstances, I couldn’t blame you if you didn’t deliver it,’ said Dolly carefully.

‘Well, of course I didn’t,’ retorted Doris. ‘My time is far too taken up with all my important charity work to be delivering barmaids’ letters to Beach View. I gave it to Ethel, who most kindly offered to take it over there after she finished work.’

‘That was kind of her,’ said Dolly, who was wondering what Ethel had to gain by not delivering it. ‘Where was Stan? I’m surprised he didn’t offer to take it off your hands.’

Doris shrugged. ‘I am not in the least familiar with the comings and goings of a lowly stationmaster, but I did note he wasn’t there that morning, which was probably why that ghastly woman, Ethel, was in charge of the signal box.’

‘I’ve yet to meet this Ethel,’ said Dolly, ‘so I’m rather curious to know what she’s like.’

‘She’s as common as muck,’ said Doris flatly. ‘Goes about in dungarees and a headscarf, and always has a roll-up stuck in the corner of her mouth.’ Her own mouth twisted in disgust. ‘Definitely not our sort of woman at all.’

She brightened, fingering her strings of pearls. ‘You really must stay and have supper with me, Dolly. The girls must have almost finished cooking it by now, and I so enjoy your company.’

Dolly looked at her dainty gold watch and gave a little gasp. ‘I’m so sorry, Doris. I would have loved to, but I have an appointment elsewhere this evening, and I’m already in danger of being horribly late.’

She got to her feet and gathered up her handbag and fur, certain that Doris must be able to hear the furious beat of her heart and see the dislike in her eyes. The thought of staying a minute longer was too much to bear after what she’d heard.

’I suppose you’re off to some lovely supper party at the Officers’ Club – or is it dinner at one of the big houses close to the golf course?’ Doris didn’t wait for an answer, but clasped Dolly’s hand. ‘We are so alike,’ she said, ‘our social life is a whirl of parties and dinners with the best kind of people. Why, we even have a similar taste in pearls and furs. I so love mink, don’t you?’