Spring 1916. ‘Oh, it’s a glorious day,’ Elizabeth Billington sighed as she ran down the steps leading from the front door of her parents’ grand house in Charlton. ‘Even the thought of war cannot dampen my spirits,’ she said, lifting her face to the sun glinting through the trees that bordered the street.
‘Miss Elizabeth, please, your mother may be watching,’ their maid Vicky pleaded. ‘At least act with decorum until we reach the park, then you can gambol like a lamb if you wish to do so.’
‘Vicky, I’m so relieved to be away from the stuffy confines of my mother’s drawing room, even if it is just to visit the lending library. I’m finding it hard not to display the lightness of my spirit. But I will do as you request until we are at the end of the street,’ she said, falling in step beside Vicky. ‘Tell me, how was your day off?’
Vicky blushed until her cheeks were rosy red. ‘I met my young man, and we had tea with his parents.’
‘Oh my
