They had taken Jane too, and a school friend of hers for company. Alison planned to lunch on bread and cheese and salad and devote the time saved from cooking to finishing the new dressing-gown she was making Logie, a reversible affair of peach crepe lined with turquoise. Logie would take it to Crail instead of the shabby one she had worn for five years, and after that it would be part of her trousseau.Alison smiled contentedly, remembering Logie’s expression when she had proposed an expedition to shop in Norwich. “You simply must have one or two new things to take to Yorkshire,” Alison had reminded her.“Yes, but what’s the use of saying ‘must’ when all we’ve got is coupons? I simply couldn’t buy clothes now and pay for them with Sherry’s money when we’re married!”“Of course you couldn’t. But there are a few things still that we might sell. I’ve hoarded them away for you to have when you were twenty-one. A cigarette case of your father’s for Andrew, a brooch of your mother’s for you, a ring for Jane.
