As a precautionary measure she had set the alarm clock which stood beside the bed, even though Ann had protested it was quite unnecessary as she never overslept.She had wakened, alert and bright-eyed, ready for whatever lay ahead, ten minutes or so before the alarm was due to ring. Moving cautiously in order not to rouse Ann, she slipped from bed and put the catch down on the alarm bell to prevent its ringing, then, still tiptoeing round, still moving everything with the maximum of caution, she prepared a cup of tea and some slices of thin toast.It wouldn’t take quite so long, she realised, once she’d mastered the intricacies of the stove top, the open and shut grate before which it was necessary to hold the bread to toast. She rummaged in Ann’s small stock cupboard while the tea was brewing, and found a small pot of sweet jam, a flavour she had never previously tasted, and another small jar of some savoury paste, very close to a proprietary brand of meat essence which her mother bought at home, and which Jane was especially fond of on either supper-time or morning toast.She completed her preparations, set the whole on the small table close to the bed-chair where Ann reclined, apparently having slept all too well this time, and then gently touched the other girl’s shoulder.“Breakfast’s ready, Ann,”
