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’ ‘And who, may I ask, is Dorothée?’ asked Gerald. If she spoke to a policeman she did not know what would ensue. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. There is no Heaven for your mother. ’ ‘It’s immaterial, in any event,’ Roding put in. At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. "Do nothing without consulting my father—your father, Thames," she implored.
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