30

There was a buff envelope with my name and address typed on it: Miss W. Ross. It had a Beverley postmark. I took it and went to the foot of the stairs. I sat down on the stairs and looked at the envelope. I dare not open it.

Then I thought, ‘Perhaps I have to go to Leeds today!’

I tore open the envelope.

An appointment had been made for me to see Mr Waites at half-past three in the afternoon of the following Tuesday.