‘But he can’t afford to lose Mrs McBride’s custom. He can’t afford the damage to the shop’s reputation. I can understand that. Oh, I wish I hadn’t been such a fool!’

‘Well, you’ve certainly blotted your copybook as far as he’s concerned, but he’s not stupid. He knows you bring custom into the shop. It’s a question of weighing up profit and loss. Now, dry your eyes and get down to work. Leave things to me. Trust me, it is going to be all right.’

Two days later May was dispiritedly stitching a bunch of artificial flowers when Julie looked in.

‘You’re wanted in the fitting room.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes, you. Mrs Breckenridge wants a new hat.’

‘Mrs Breckenridge? She only had one last week.’

‘Well, a lady’s allowed more than one hat, isn’t she? Go on, you’d better get up there.’

‘I’m not allowed. Get Nan to deal with her.’

‘Nan’s with her now, but she doesn’t want Nan, she wants you. Hurry up! Mustn’t keep a customer waiting.’

As soon as May entered the room Mrs Breckenridge came to her and took her rough, reddened hand between her own kid-glove-covered ones.

‘You poor dear, you look as if you haven’t slept all night.’

May made an effort to pull herself together. ‘I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m … I’m not very well, that’s all. Now, what can I do for you? Is that hat not satisfactory?’

‘It’s perfect, as you well know. I’m not here to order a hat. I know a bit about what is going on. I was here, you remember, when there was that nasty little scene with Mrs McBride.’

‘Oh, that …’ May murmured.

‘Yes, that. To be honest with you, I’ve never believed the story that that beautiful child is the offspring of Connor McBride’s brother’s wife. I don’t believe there’s a drop of McBride blood in her veins. But that’s beside the point. I don’t know where you’ve seen her before, and I don’t want to know. But I don’t want to lose the only girl who makes hats that don’t make my face look like a potato. So, I’ve written to Mr Freeman …’

‘Oh, that is so kind of you,’ May exclaimed, ‘but I really don’t think he will change his mind.’

‘Wait. I haven’t finished yet.’ Mrs Breckenridge fished in her bag and brought out an envelope. She extracted a sheet of notepaper and held it out to May. ‘I knew Mr Freeman wouldn’t be worried about losing my custom, so I called on several of my friends, people I know you have made hats for, and they have all signed.’

May glanced down the list of signatures and recognised several who, she knew, were very well-off ladies who were regular patrons.