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we close shop for lunch, we’ll chase over to Hatton Garden and see what we can find in the way of a really lovely ring – one that will take your breath away.’

He sounded so youthful, like a schoolboy with a sudden new idea. Casting aside all her doubts Julia knew with a sudden rush of joy that her life as Simon’s wife was going to be the most wonderful anyone could ever wish to have.

Seventeen

‘Mummy, we’ve set the wedding date for Saturday the first of March, before the spring rush begins.’

Julia’s voice carried no enthusiasm and Stephanie knew why as their mother hardly glanced up from her armchair where she was darning a little hole in one of her lisle stockings.

She felt a tug of guilt that she was the one keeping alive her mother’s repugnance of Julia’s flagrant behaviour. That it was flagrant she had no doubt; her sister’s expression gave her away, hardly able to meet her mother’s accusing eyes, her face lowered in an effort to conceal the ugly truth there on her face.

Stephanie had known a few times herself when a kiss and a cuddle with some young chap after a dance had threatened to develop into a bit of a fumble. But she’d never let it go any further than that, and unlike Julia she managed to keep her bits of fun well away from her family’s door, as any sensible girl should.

Smug at having a darn sight more sense than Julia had, she couldn’t help a surge of satisfaction at her mother’s indifferent response to her daughter’s latest news. It had been the same when Julia had bounced into the flat with Simon one morning six weeks ago to show off her diamond cluster engagement ring after having blatantly spent the whole night in his rooms. Mummy’s disgust had taken all the bounce out of her, along with Stephanie’s own reaction; she had made a big point of giving the lovely engagement ring no more than a contemptuous glance before going back to eating her breakfast.

Perhaps her behaviour had been a little too pointed. She had been taken aback to see Simon’s happy face change to an expression of bewilderment. He and Julia had left; she in tears, he with a comforting arm about her, their happiness completely deflated.

Simon had not set foot up here again since that morning and Stephanie was haunted by the thought that she might have gone too far. She persuaded herself that Julia had brought this upon herself, by not bothering to think how her conduct might have upset others. She had given no thought to how unfair she was being towards her mother by not respecting Victoria’s admittedly old-fashioned sense of values or her peace of mind.

Clinging to that thought now, Stephanie tried to ignore the insidious seed of jealousy that was growing inside her; jealousy of Julia who, when it came down to it, had done all right for herself since their father died. She had taken over responsibility for the family, with no thought of consulting anyone else, bossing them all into finding work as if she were queen bee, but doing nothing herself except dream of riches gained from that stuff she’d purloined from their father’s warehouse. Yet Julia had been the one to benefit most from their misfortune. Julia had landed nicely on her feet, acquiring a successful business and soon to marry a handsome businessman. She, on the other hand, was still at her boring, foot-aching, nine-to-five job behind a cosmetics counter, even if it was Selfridges.

Ginny too was doing all right. She had always been Julia’s favourite sister and now, having been taken under her wing, she looked as though she too could go far, modelling. On one occasion last August Stephanie had gone down to the well-laid-out, modern fashion room to see how their younger sister was faring. She’d come away screwed up with resentment that it was Ginny and not herself parading up and down in front of a small but admiring group of customers like the Queen of England. She’d never gone to watch her again.

‘Please, Mummy, be happy for us,’ Julia was now saying, breaking the long silence. Even Ginny, still finishing her breakfast of toast and marmalade, had not said a word; she had just gaped, toast poised between plate and mouth.

All at once Julia’s sad, pleading voice made Stephanie feel uncomfortable. It sounded so unlike her strong, self-assured sister. Perhaps her mother felt it too. She looked up at last with a heavy, tremulous sigh, her mending falling idle, her eyes glistening with tears.

‘How can I be happy, Julia, when I know what’s going on down there? Can’t you see how it upsets me?’

‘It was just that one time, Mummy,’ Julia broke in. ‘You must believe me.’

‘How can I?’ came the quavering reply. A stronger woman might have raised her tone, but not Victoria. ‘You spend your evenings with that man in his rooms, which is just as wrong. You are there until nearly midnight, time enough to…’ She broke off, unable to voice her thoughts. After a moment she continued. ‘Surely, knowing you’ll soon be married, you could abstain from indulging yourselves for the sake of decency. You ask me to be happy for you. Do this one thing for me, resist the temptation to go to his rooms, and I shall be the happiest woman in the world.’

Stephanie saw anger steal into her sister’s eyes; saw her head go up.

‘What about lunch times, Mummy? We eat lunch together. But that’s all right? Who is to say we don’t do something else other than eat? We go to the pictures, the theatre, have dinner out. Why not take time to do what you say we do of an evening, maybe down some back alley or in a dark corner?’

It was so loaded with cruel sarcasm that even Stephanie’s breath was taken away, while Ginny, who had looked on without a word, possibly quietly

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