‘Here.’ May fetched it and Mrs McBride jammed it onto her head and peered at herself in the mirror. There was another tap at the door and Julie put her head round.

‘Mrs Breckenridge’s son is here to collect her.’

A tall, fair-haired young man stood in the doorway, looking faintly embarrassed. May’s attention was recalled to her original customer.

‘Mrs Breckenridge, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to ignore you. Here’s your hat.’

Mrs McBride swung round from the mirror. ‘Well, I suppose this will have to do, if it’s the best you can manage. I may have to take my custom elsewhere in future.’ She headed for the door, then stopped and turned around. ‘But you can rest assured I shall be complaining to Mr Freeman about your overfamiliarity. My husband and he are on very good terms. They sit on several committees together. I do not think you will keep your position here much longer.’

With this final barb, she swept past the bewildered young man in the doorway and May heard her imperiously commanding, ‘Angelina! Come here at once!’

Mrs Breckenridge laid a gentle hand on May’s arm. ‘Don’t take it to heart, my dear. Mrs McBride is known for her quick temper. It’s the Irish strain coming to the fore. I’m sure Mr Freeman knows what a splendid worker he has in you.’ She gave her a smile and went to the door. ‘James, I’m sorry you had to wait, dear. I’m ready now.’

‘That’s quite all right, mama,’ he responded. ‘Let me carry that.’ Just for a moment his eyes met May’s and he smiled.

For the rest of the morning May could not get the encounter with Mrs McBride’s little girl out of her mind. She was convinced that it was Angel and almost sure that the child had recognised her, before she was so abruptly banished. She remembered being told that she had been adopted by a wealthy couple and reasoned that it must be the McBrides. She wondered how they had explained Angel’s background to their friends. Surely they could not have pretended that she was their natural daughter, because she had been almost two years old when she was adopted. She told herself that it was really none of her business; but the expression on Angel’s face when her mother shouted at her haunted her. She was afraid of her. May was sure of that, and she couldn’t bear it.

May had just returned to her workroom after the dinner break when a messenger boy appeared at the door.

‘Mr Freeman wants you.’

A chill went through May’s stomach. There could be only one explanation. Mrs McBride had carried out her threat.