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spun round. ‘Oh, Jess, I’ve left Dora’s shoebag on the bus! I can’t go in!’

Jessica gripped her arm. ‘We have to, don’t you see? We can telephone the bus station and ask them to hold them for us in Lost Property.’

‘I feel sick. Whatever’s Dora going to say?’

Dora’s words spun through Ronnie’s head. Mind you take care of them. They’re a bit special.

‘Don’t worry, Ronnie, we’ll get them back and she’ll never need to know.’

The uniformed doorman sporting an Errol Flynn moustache was checking tickets. He looked up and smiled flirtatiously at Jess but when his gaze fell on Ronnie the smile faded. Fully aware of how she must look in her now tatty raincoat and Wellington boots by the side of her glamorous friend, she felt herself go red. Then something snapped. What right did he have to judge her? She tilted up her chin as she heard Jessica say:

‘My friend left something on the bus. Would it be possible to telephone the bus station to ask about it?’

The doorman glanced at Ronnie with a supercilious expression. ‘Ask for Mr Booth at the bar.’

Jessica gave him a curt nod. ‘Thank you.’ Taking Ronnie’s arm firmly she guided her inside.

‘Jess, I don’t want to go into the bar in my raincoat and boots. They’ll all be dancing and I’ll feel ridiculous.’

‘May’s dress is halfway down your legs so you can take your coat off,’ Jessica said. ‘It’ll be almost dark in there. No one will notice the boots. But I agree they’ll notice you in outdoor clothes. Let’s just ask someone where we go, and then we’ll find Mr Booth.’

Reluctantly, Ronnie followed Jess through a door marked Cloakroom. It was a large room with coat rails already getting full. There was plenty of chatter going on as a dozen girls were changing. Jessica peeled off her coat and hung it on a nearby hook under the watchful eye of the attendant.

‘Oh, Jess, look at you!’ Ronnie’s mouth opened in awe at the golden-haired beauty standing before her.

‘Am I okay?’ Jessica tossed her hair. ‘If I’m not, it’s the only gown I brought with me.’

She was dressed from head to foot in a soft green and Ronnie noticed for the first time her eyes were exactly the same colour. At the front of the dress the fabric draped across the neckline but when Jess turned around, Ronnie saw her creamy bare back with only a hint of material at the waist.

‘You look so sophisticated,’ Ronnie said, in awe. ‘Anyone looking at you would never dream you worked on the canals and ended up every evening like the rest of us – absolutely filthy.’ She grinned, then looked down at herself and pulled a face. ‘I can’t go in there like this.’

‘Yes, you can. Come on, off with that coat.’ Jessica suddenly grinned. ‘Do you remember what I said when I was trying to persuade you to come with me? I said, “… even if I have to drag you there on bare feet.” So that’s what I’m about to do now. Take off your boots.’

‘I can’t go in there without shoes,’ Ronnie protested. ‘I haven’t got stockings on underneath these socks. I don’t even own a pair.’ Strange … she felt a flash of disappointment that she wasn’t going to have an evening off the boat after all. She could hear the scuffling of dancing feet, the laughter and the music coming from behind a nearby closed door and she was curious to see what was going on.

‘Ronnie, we’ll find Mr Booth. Make a plan to collect the shoes which our nice conductor will have seen by now. Then stay a little while to listen to the music. You don’t have to dance. But we’ve come to listen to Jack Payne’s band. So let’s go in. Either that or we’ll have to turn around now without making the phone call and go back to the boat. Then you’ll have to confess to Dora, when you might not have to.’

Ronnie blew out her cheeks. She was no match for Jess in this mood.

‘All right, then,’ she said. ‘But I’m not going in barefoot. Let’s go straight to the bar and find Mr Booth.’ She gave Jess an imploring look. ‘But promise to stay with me. I don’t want to be left on my own – the laughing stock.’

Jessica hesitated. Then she nodded. ‘All right, I promise.’

The band was already well under way when another uniformed man held the door open for the two of them to go through. Ronnie saw his glance travel to her feet and his eyes widened in disbelief.

‘Forgotten your dancing pumps, love?’ he chortled.

Ronnie gave him a frosty look. What a rude man. Maman would want to know where his manners were.

‘It’s a long story,’ Jessica said coolly. ‘We wouldn’t want to bore you, so if you’d allow us to pass through.’

Conscious of several people’s eyebrows raising when they caught sight of her boots, and a few smothered sniggers, Ronnie gazed up at the high domed ceiling, determined not to allow anyone to think she was bothered, but hating every squeaky step as she followed Jess’s tall figure striding towards the bar, elbowing her way to the front, apologising profusely as she did so.

With her golden hair and stunning dress, Ronnie saw that Jessica immediately caught the attention of one of the barmen.

‘Good evening. Could you tell me where I might find Mr Booth?’

‘Sorry, love. He’s unwell today so he won’t be in. Can I help?’

‘I hope so.’ Jessica treated him to a smile. ‘I need to speak to someone urgently and wonder if I could use your phone.’

The barman shook his head. ‘Not allowed without his say-so, I’m afraid. And with such a crowd we’re needed behind the bar non-stop or else there’d be a rumpus.’

Jessica twisted round to Ronnie. ‘Did you hear that, Ronnie?’

Ronnie nodded.

‘We’ll do it tomorrow, first thing in the morning – all right?’ she added louder.

Ronnie nodded again. It was no good trying

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