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Having her hair washed and her scalp rubbed makes Silvana feel sleepy and relaxed.

‘I had long hair before,’ she tells Doris. ‘Long red hair.’

‘Did you? Well, we’re all a bit older now. There comes a time when it’s better for a woman to have her hair short.’

Doris wraps Silvana’s hair in a towel like a turban, and they drink tea while they wait for the colour to take. From the garden they can hear the men’s voices, a rumble of talk and laughter. Silvana can hear Tony’s laugh, louder than the other two.

‘Have you known Mr Benetoni a long time?’ she asks.

Doris picks up a bag of curlers and starts sorting them on her lap.

‘Tony? Years. I remember his mother. She was a lovely lady. Died when he was quite young. And then the poor man loses his wife. Terrible tragedy, that was. Tony went away during the war. People say he did something a bit hush-hush, but I don’t think so. Gilbert says more likely he was banged up in prison somewhere when all the fuss about foreigners being spies went on. A couple of years ago he came back and opened up a pet shop. It was very nice to see him back. He’s a real gentleman.’

‘And did you know his wife?’

‘Not really. She was such a pretty young thing. She came from a very good family. Far too posh for Tony really, but she fell for him hook, line and sinker. He was a real looker. Still is, or haven’t you noticed?’ Doris laughs throatily. ‘I must say, whoever wins him will have done very well for herself. Quite the eligible bachelor, Tony is. Pity the little boy didn’t get his father’s charm or his mother’s looks. Funny kid, isn’t he? He’s the apple of his grandparents’ eyes, though. They dote on him. Right little Billy Bunter. Your lad could do with a few of his pounds. Now – let’s have a quick peek at your hair. Yes. That looks just right. Come on, let’s get some curlers on.’

When Doris has curled and set Silvana’s hair, she moves the china dogs and calendars on the mantelpiece so that Silvana can look at herself in the mirror.

‘Do you like it? That’s what we called the “Victory style” during the war.’

Silvana turns her head from side to side. Her hair is a dark shade of mahogany, curled tightly at the front and looser at the back. She doesn’t recognize herself.

‘Wait a minute.’ Doris scrabbles through her handbag and pulls out a small gold lipstick case. ‘Here. Put a bit of this on.’

Silvana laughs. Doris is so excited for her. The woman is clasping her hands together, as if she is an artist who has just unveiled her latest masterpiece. The Polish woman remade. And why not? She kisses Doris on her powdered cheek, feeling pitted skin beneath her lips, and realizes life has taken its toll on Doris, too. ‘You are a good person,’ she whispers.

‘Don’t be daft.’

‘You remind me of a friend I once had,’ Silvana says, reaching down to stroke Aurek’s head. ‘Hanka. She was very kind, like you.’

‘Oh now, stop. I’m just your neighbour. To tell you the truth, I like having you around. Since our Geena left home, I’ve missed out on female company. I used to like having my daughter at home. But they grow up so fast. Look at your little lad. He loves you, doesn’t he? I’ve never seen a mother and son as close as you two. Gilbert calls you the Russian dollies, you know, those wooden toys that fit one inside the other? And the boy’s the spitting image of you.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘He’s got your looks completely. Now, let’s call the men in. I want to show them how I’ve got Vivien Leigh in my front parlour.’

‘No. No, don’t. I’ll show Janusz later.’

‘Nonsense. They may have had a few drinks this afternoon, but they can still appreciate my handiwork.’

And Doris has left the room before Silvana can say another word.

The three men crowd into the room and Doris takes Silvana by the shoulders, turning her one way and then the other.

‘So, what do you think?’

‘I didn’t recognize you,’ says Janusz. He is swaying on his feet slightly, and it is easy to see he has drunk too much.

She is embarrassed by his vagueness, the way