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she had accumulated and wiped it on her apron. ‘When he came back again my Tom saw him out the front. Stupid like, he started teasing him and called him “Runaway” to his face and then had to run away himself because Jem went after him and grabbed him round the throat!’
    Meg stared at her. ‘He never did!’
    ‘I tell you, he did! He threatened to strangle Tom with his bare hands! His mother was screaming at him to let go. Jem’s mother, not Tom’s. Rider, that’s their name. Funny crowd.’ She regarded herself in the mirror, adjusted her cap and smiled at Meg. ‘Good, was it? The show?’
    ‘Not bad. It was just sketches and suchlike. A comedian – Alfie Parks – and some dancers . . . and a magician. Wahoo the Wonderful Wizard. That’s what he called himself.’
    ‘And was he?’
    ‘What? Was he wonderful?’ Meg considered the question. ‘I s’pose so. He pulled a rabbit out of his hat and things like that. We were near the back so we couldn’t see all that well but he did tricks. Mind you, my Alan knew how it was done. Some of it. You draw attention to something with one hand while you do something else with the other. I forget what it’s called.’
    Penny checked that the wardrobe was empty and knelt down to look under the bed. The chamber pot had not been used, thank goodness, and no-one had left a sock or a stocking. She had once found an earring, which she had handed in, and a ten-shilling note, which she had quickly tucked into her apron pocket. No such luck this time. She said, ‘I bet the magician had dark hair. They always do. It’s to make them look sort of mysterious and dangerous.’ She clambered to her feet. ‘You think about it.’
    ‘He was dark, actually.’ Meg frowned. ‘But my Alan’s dark-haired and he’s not mysterious and dangerous.’
    ‘I mean magicians, silly, not ordinary people! It goes with the black top hat and the black cloak. It looks sinister.’
    ‘And the black wand! He had this magic wand . . .’
    They headed towards the door, taking the brooms and other cleaning equipment with them.
    On the way Penny gathered up the discarded sheets and pillowslips. She said, ‘Mind you, my dad’s got dark hair and he can be dangerous. Ask my brother. Dad clips him round the ear every time he says “bugger”.’ She mouthed the last word.
    ‘Lots of men say that.’
    ‘Not a boy of ten! My mum says he learned it at school . . . But s’pose a magician hasn’t got dark hair? Then what?’
    ‘Probably wears a wig.’ She sighed. ‘Right. What’s next?’ She pulled out a list and glanced at it. ‘The Daffodil Room.’
    They went out, closing the door behind them.
    Much later the same day, Biddy settled Primmy in her basket with a biscuit, turned off the lights in the kitchen and checked for the second time that the doors and downstairs windows were locked. Alice waited halfway up the stairs.
    She said, ‘It’s funny without them. Sort of creepy.’
    ‘Oh, don’t talk so daft, Alice!’ Biddy began to haul herself up the stairs, relying heavily on the banisters. ‘How can it be creepy with two people in it if it’s not creepy with four people?’
    ‘I don’t know but it is.’ As Biddy came up, Alice moved up to make room for her and reached the landing first. ‘That top stair always creaks,’ she said accusingly.
    ‘Don’t look at me.’ Biddy puffed as she hauled herself up, hand over hand. ‘They’re not my stairs.’
    ‘You ought to live in a bungalow, then you wouldn’t have to drag yourself up and down.’
    ‘I don’t drag myself down, do I? It’s only up. Up is the problem.’ With a last gasp Biddy reached the top and stopped to rest. For a moment they both were aware of the gathering silence.
    Alice said, ‘So what time shall we get up tomorrow?’
    She had asked this question several times already and Biddy still wasn’t sure what to say. Coming to an abrupt decision she said, ‘Half an hour later than usual.’
    ‘Half