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station I felt dizzy, then the next thing I knew, you were there.’
    Belle sensed that Miranda was naive enough to imagine that aborting an early pregnancy was quick and painless. Clearly the abortionist hadn’t enlightened her for fear of losing the fee.
    ‘How do you feel now?’ she asked, putting a hand on Miranda’s stomach. She was very slender but held in by a firm corset.
    ‘I’ve got a dull ache,’ Miranda said.
    Belle took a deep breath to steady herself.
    She knew the sensible thing was to let Miranda go home as she had already planned; after all, she was nothing to her. But she doubted Miranda had any idea of how fierce the pains would be, or that she was likely to lose a lot of blood. Holed up in her bedroom, it was doubtful that she could go through that without crying out. And with a house full of servants, and a bossy mother, her secret would soon be out and she’d be ruined.
    Belle couldn’t bear the thought of any woman having to face such an ordeal alone.
    ‘Haven’t you got a friend you could go and stay with for the night?’ she asked.
    Miranda looked puzzled. ‘Why would I want to do that?’
    Belle sighed, wondering how anyone could be so stupid. ‘Because you might need help. It’s a messy business,’ she said.
    Miranda’s pale blue eyes became wide with horror. ‘Then I couldn’t go to anyone I know! They’d all be outraged. What am I going to do? You’re frightening me.’
    Belle held Miranda’s hand and looked at her hard. She wasn’t exactly pretty, her nose was too sharp, her lips too thin, but there was something very attractive about her, even with her red-rimmed eyes. Belle thought back to all the tight spots she’d been in herself. She’d found her way out of most of them without help from anyone, and become stronger for the experience. But she couldn’t bring herself to let this girl lose everything by sending her home. She felt her mother was the kind who would disown her if she was shamed by her.
    ‘You can stay here,’ she said impulsively.
    ‘Here?’ Miranda looked around the shop as if bewildered at the suggestion.
    ‘I didn’t mean here in the shop,’ Belle hastened to explain. ‘I meant out in the back room. I can make you comfortable there. There’s water and a lavatory just out the back. I’ll stay and take care of you too. But you must telephone home and make some excuse.’
    ‘You’d do that for me?’ Miranda’s eyes filled again. ‘But you don’t know me! And besides, you are married, won’t your husband expect you home?’
    Belle knew Jimmy would be horrified at her getting involved, but she had no intention of telling him anything, at least not until it was over. She’d speak to Mog and get her help.
    ‘I’ll be truthful. I don’t want this,’ Belle said simply. ‘But I couldn’t have it on my conscience if I sent you home and you had no one to take care of you. Your reputation would be ruined if this got out. I’ve met your mother, remember? I can’t see her being very kind to you.’
    ‘Why would you care?’
    ‘Let’s just say it’s because I’ve had some hard times in the past. Now, who could you tell your mother you are staying with?’
    ‘Well, I told her this morning that I was going to see a friend who lives in Belgravia. I do sometimes stay overnight there.’
    ‘The telephone is there.’ Belle pointed to it. ‘Use it.’
    Belle went into the back room as Miranda asked the operator to put her through. She just hoped it wasn’t possible for Mrs Forbes-Alton to find out that the call had come from Blackheath and not Belgravia.
    The back room was the same width as the shop, but not as long, and a door at the end opened on to the small walled yard where the lavatory was. On the left of the room there were shelves to the ceiling filled with boxes of trimmings, canvas and rolls of felt. Beneath it was her workbench with her blocks and the steamer for shaping hats. To the right behind the door into the room were the