Elsie had just returned from the East End after a long day sorting out the problems of some of the refugee families, and it was a shock to walk into the drawing room in Cromwell Road to find Guy Gifford standing with his back to the fireplace, even though no one had thought to light the fire and the temperature in the room was only a few degrees above that outside. ‘Elsie. It’s good to see you again.’ He took a step towards her with his arm outstretched and then hesitated, dropping his hand to his side. ‘I would have come sooner, but we had a bit of a crisis at work.’ ‘I’ve been busy too.’ Elsie glanced at Marianne who was huddled in a chair, shivering. ‘Why didn’t anyone light the fire?’ Marianne wrapped her cardigan around her slender body. ‘Thank goodness you’re home, darling. I can’t get the beastly thing to light. I’ve used up a whole box of matches but it just belches smoke at me and goes out again.’ ‘I offered to have a go,’ Guy said hastily. ‘But Marianne seems to think I’m fairly useless at anything practical.’ ‘And you are.’ Marianne tossed her head.
