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dark taxi he was so kind, holding her close, asking if he might see her again. She was only too happy for him to do so. He gave her his address in Kilburn and for once she was happy to give hers, an address that at last she could be proud of, in the heart of the West End.

Jimmy told her that his father was a stockbroker on the London Stock Exchange and that he worked with him. So he was pretty well off, came the unavoidable thought as Stephanie cuddled close to him. It didn’t seem wrong for him to put his arm about her slim neck and kiss her quite masterfully on the lips; kisses she returned with pleasure, aware of his hand slipping down inside her coat, the top of her dress, beneath her bra. Other boys had done this but she usually put them off with a quick laugh, but this time she found the sensation pleasurable, the warmth of his fingers on her breast, gently manipulating the flesh, making her nipple stand up. In fact it was so delightful that, as his other hand moved up inside her skirt and between her legs, she actually drew in a sharp breath as the touch on that place that had never been touched by any boy before caused her senses to respond involuntarily – one second later, in fear.

Pulling her lips from his, pushing the hand away violently, she came upright, realizing she had let his body bear her down upon the seat. There came real fear that he could easily render her powerless, and her imagination suddenly ran riot. But to her surprise he also sat up, taking his hands from her with not even a sign of anger. He even gave a deep chuckle.

‘You’re a good girl,’ he muttered. ‘There are few of those about these days. I’m sorry if I worried you. It was quite unforgivable of me. Am I still permitted to see you again next week?’

‘Yes, of course,’ came her meek reply. She did want to see him again. Already gratitude for his understanding was overwhelming her, almost to the point that she wished she had let him go further with her. In a way she felt cheated, wanting it to happen again; that delightful sensation she’d never before experienced, could never even have guessed at. Just thinking of it made her tremble deliciously.

But there was something else. She’d nearly let him go on; something in her had wanted – needed – it to happen. And this need was making her understand, as she finally alighted from the taxi, Julia’s need to share with her fiancé that most natural thing, being in love and wanting to cement that love, with no care for what others might think.

Christmas came and went. She had shared the festive season with her family though Julia spent most of it with Simon. When she came to be with them she came on her own. At last Stephanie understood. She could think of no one but Jimmy, yet had to conceal those thoughts from everyone because like Julia she had allowed their natural feelings for each other to take over and she was happy to express her love for him in every way that a woman can. Each day away from him was a yearning torture; she could hardly wait for the New Year to be over when they could forget their families and be together and enjoy the love they now indulged in as well as the new, exciting life he was showing her.

Over the past weeks he’d introduced her to his friends, and she had enjoyed sharing in their escapades. She was truly one of the ‘Bright Young Things’ as the wealthy young gadabouts were called. Jimmy paid for everything, even her clothes. It was such fun, dashing about in cars, drinking cocktails and champagne, smoking cigarettes in long elegant holders. There were fancy dress parties, babies’ parties where everyone dressed as a baby, dancing to wild music, party crashing, Underground parties where they all went round on the Circle line for hours, getting drunk until they were forced off. Best of all was going to bed with Jimmy. Who cared what her mother said about her staying out until the early hours? She was enjoying herself. She no longer minded what Julia and Simon got up to. It was natural, after all. Everyone was doing it with someone. Before long Jimmy would propose. Who knows, she thought, we might even have a double wedding.

The wedding had had to be postponed. Work was coming in thick and fast; so was money, but there was no time for making any plans other than financial ones. The February dock strike had paralysed every port in the country, holding up delivery of Julia’s lovely silks from India. They cost half the price being asked at home and without them she was left worrying how to meet the growing demand from her customers for ever more exotic garments.

The finding of more treasure from the young Pharaoh Tutankhamun’s tomb in Egypt had begun a ‘Tutmania’ craze for turban hats, Egyptian earrings and bangles. Colours were named Coptic blue, mummy brown, carnelian and lotus in honour of the Egyptian craze. The wealthy flocked to Egypt to see the wonderful treasures and take part in more discoveries. They returned home with yet more exotic ideas and Julia was at her wits’ end to keep up with their demands for exclusive and exotic clothes. She spent hours searching for fine brocades, gold-embroidered taffeta, chiffon in deep Egyptian colours, Oriental silk, all to meet the demand for this new style. It was not the time to think of marriage.

‘We’ll try for the summer,’ Simon said glumly and Julia had no option but to agree with that. They were now living together virtually as man and wife anyway. Her mother said little and Stephanie had appeared to come to terms with the situation. They

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