‘Grace, what’s wrong, love?’

Jean lifted her hands from the soapy washing-up water, where she had been washing the cutlery, whilst Grace did the drying. It was a task they always shared, and one Jean looked forward to because it was one of the few occasions during her busy week when she and her elder daughter had time on their own to chat properly.

She’d been looking forward to hearing all about the Tennis Club dance and had expected Grace to be in the happiest of moods now that she knew she could do her nurse’s training but instead her normally sunny-natured daughter was quiet and withdrawn, and had barely said a word.

‘Nothing’s wrong, Mum,’ Grace fibbed uncomfortably. She had hardly slept, and when she had she had ended up dreaming about the silk dress, waking up with a start, her heart pounding. Why had she been so stupid and … and dishonest? As well as her dread about telling the salon manager, she also felt bitterly ashamed of herself.

‘Nothing’s wrong? Then why have you been drying that plate for the last five minutes is what I’d like to know. Come on, love, you can tell me.’ Jean hesitated. It wasn’t in her nature to criticise others, nor to talk about them behind their backs, but when it came to her children her maternal instincts came first, and she wasn’t having her Grace made unhappy by something that her sister or one of her family might have said to her.

‘If summat was said or done last night to upset you …?’

Her mother’s sympathy was too much for Grace to bear. She put down the plate she had been drying, her face crumpling.

‘Oh, Mum, I’ve done the most dreadful thing. I’m that ashamed of meself. I don’t know what came over me. Ruined me whole life, I have. You and me dad will never forgive me.’

Jean’s heart turned over and then lurched painfully into her ribs. Grace was normally a sensible girl who knew what was what and right from wrong. She’d made sure of that. Accidents happened when young people fell in love, but Jean didn’t want any of her children saddled with an unexpected baby on the way before they’d said their vows in church. What she’d never expected, though, was that her Grace would turn out to be the sort that let a lad she wasn’t as good as engaged to, at the least, persuade her into doing what she shouldn’t.

Sam would be heartbroken. He thought the world of his children and was that proud of them, even if he didn’t always let them know that. It would be the drink, of course – that and the excitement of mingling with Bella’s posh friends. Jean’s heart swelled with maternal indignation as she thought of her daughter being plied with drinks and then taken advantage of by some young chap.

Torn between venting her shocked despair and wanting to comfort her daughter, there were a hundred things she wanted to say, but in the end the only thing she could say was, ‘Oh, Grace.’

‘I’m so sorry, Mum.’ Grace was crying in earnest now. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have done it but Susan had gone to so much trouble, even though I’d told her that I couldn’t do it and that it was wrong, even though she said that everyone borrows clothes from the salon on the quiet, even the manageress. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She’s been a good friend to me, but I knew the minute I put it on that I shouldn’t have done.’

Jean listened to Grace’s hiccuped muddled words and felt as though a weight had been rolled off her heart. Her daughter hadn’t gone and done what she shouldn’t with some lad. But then hard on the heels of her initial relief came the shock of realising just what Grace had done.

‘You went to the dance wearing a dress from the salon that you’d no right to be wearing?’

Miserably, Grace nodded her head. She could hear the scandalised disbelief in her mother’s voice.

‘Grace, that’s stealing.’

‘It didn’t seem wrong the way Susan talked about it. She said that everyone did it.’

Jean was angry now, her anger fired as much by relief that she didn’t have to worry about Grace getting herself into the kind of trouble no mother wanted her daughter to be in, as by her dismay at what she had done.

‘Never mind what someone else said. If this Susan told you to lie down in the road in front of a bus would you do it? Me and your dad have brought you up to know what’s right from what’s wrong.’

‘I know that, Mum. But … well, Susan was that determined I was going to wear it. She said that no one would know and that she would put the dress back for me on Monday morning but it got torn when Bella stood on it and now … I’ll have to tell the manageress what’s happened and ask her if I can buy it with me staff discount.’

Jean was horrified at what Grace had done. It ran counter to everything she and Sam had taught their children, and she knew that Sam would be even more disappointed in Grace than she was herself.

‘Well, I can’t help you out paying for it, Grace, and I wouldn’t do neither. What you’ve done is very wrong.’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘How much will it cost?’

‘Seven guineas,’ Grace told her in a small voice.

‘Seven guineas!’ Jean went over to the table and sat down on one of the chairs.

‘I thought I’d ask if I could have two shillings taken out of me wages every week until I’ve paid for it.’

‘But you won’t be having any wages. Not with you doing your nurse’s training.’

Grace’s eyes welled with fresh tears. ‘I can’t do that now, Mum, not with this frock to be paid for. It serves me right, I know that, and I’ve only myself to blame.’

Jean looked at her daughter’s downbent head. She knew how much doing her nurse’s training meant to her and her heart ached for her. But Grace was quite right, the dress – and her ‘crime’ both had to be paid for. Even so …

‘Oh, love.’

Her mother’s soft words and warm hug brought fresh tears to Grace’s eyes.

‘I wish I could help you but—’

‘I wouldn’t expect you to do that, Mum, even if you had the money.’ Grace stepped back from Jean and lifted her head determinedly. ‘I’ve made me bed and now I’ve got to lie in it. There’s no one to blame for this but meself.’

Jean said nothing. Privately she could think of at least two people who probably shared as much of the blame as Grace although they would get away with it scot-free. One was this Susan she worked with, and the other was her own sister for making Grace feel she wasn’t good enough to meet Bella’s posh friends wearing her own clothes.

‘Even if I could pay for the dress, Mum, I’d probably still not be able to go ahead with me nursing. The hospital will want a reference from Lewis’s. I can keep on with me St John Ambulance work, though. Alan’s cousin was ever such a nice chap. Came with me all the way from Wallasey, even though I’d said there wasn’t any need,’ Grace told her, putting on a deliberately cheerful voice.

Jean frowned. ‘I thought your cousin Charlie was going to bring you home.’

She had been in bed but awake, waiting for the sound of Grace’s key in the lock last night, and it had never occurred to her to ask how her daughter had got home, since she had assumed that Charlie had made sure she was safely delivered.

‘So did I, but I’m glad Charlie didn’t really because he’d had ever such a lot to drink. Auntie Vi and Uncle Edwin came for Bella and Alan.’

She would have something to say about the way she’d treated Grace, the next time she saw her twin, Jean decided. Fancy leaving her to make her own way home. She would never have done anything like that if their positions had been reversed. But that was it, wasn’t it? In Vi’s eyes Jean and her family were second class and unimportant, just as Sam had told her.

‘Give us the dress then, so that I can get it back on the rail before Mrs James gets in.’

Grace shook her head. She had met up with Susan as arranged a couple of streets away from Lewis’s.

‘It got torn at the dance,’ she told Susan. ‘I’ve decided that I’m going to own up to having borrowed it to Mrs James and ask her if I can buy it with me staff discount.’

Susan looked horrified. ‘You can’t do that. She’ll never let you, and we’ll both be out of a job.’

‘I’ve got to do it, Susan, but don’t worry I won’t say anything about you. My getting it torn wasn’t your fault.’

‘Give it here,’ Susan demanded, grabbing the bag from Grace before she could stop her. ‘You’ll be done for if you own up to having borrowed it. I’ll put it back just like I said and—’

‘But it’s torn and—’

‘Well then, we’ll just have to pretend that a customer did it, won’t we? Look, Grace, Mrs James will never believe that you took it into your head to borrow it on your own. She thinks a lot of you, she does. I reckon she’ll be questioning the lot of us before you can say, “Here’s your cards” and there’s not one of the girls working in the salon who’s going to want that. No, the best thing for everyone is if I put the frock back and we say nothing. With a bit of luck it could be weeks, maybe months, before anyone comes in and tries it on, especially if I put it right at the back of the wardrobe.’

Grace shook her head ‘Susan, I can’t do that. It’s dishonest and—’

‘Well, you won’t be doing it, will you? It’s me wot took it and me wot will get into trouble, you know, not just you. Anyway, you won’t be able to say anything to Mrs James today. It’s her day off – remember? Come on, we’d better get on our way otherwise we’ll be late.’

Grace had had the most dreadful morning, jumping with nerves every time anyone came anywhere near the salon and now Rosemary, who was in charge in the manageress’s absence, had sent her to the small back sewing room ‘for a rest’ because she looked so poorly.

Susan had urged her to have a cigarette to calm her nerves, but smoking it had made her feel even sicker, and so she had stubbed it out. She wasn’t a big smoker at the best of times.

The door to the sewing room burst open and Susan came in, her face flushed with excitement and her eyes sparkling.

‘You’ll never guess what’s happened. A chap has just come in and bought that ruddy dress.’

‘Bought it? A man? But how? What about the tear …?’

‘Asked to see Mrs James, he did, at first. Then when I told him that she wasn’t in, he said he’d come about a dress. Described the green silk to a T, he did an’ all. You should have seen his face when I told him that it was hanging up in the closet. “The frock is still available for purchase?” he asked me, ever so posh, like. “Of course it is,” I said back.’

‘Susan …’

‘Offered to go and get it for him to have a look at too, I did. Of course I didn’t show him the bit wot got torn.’

‘Susan …’

‘Told me to wrap it up for him and he paid cash. Ever so good-looking, he was. Pity he’d got his leg in a plaster mind … Here, what are you doing?’ she demanded indignantly when Grace sprang from her chair and ran to the door.

Seb. It just had to be him, Grace felt sure, but where had he gone? Was he still in Lewis’s or had he left? She ran all the way down the dark cold staff stairway, and out into the street. Lewis’s main entrance was on Ranelegh Street so she ran round the corner of the building, heading for those doors to ask the uniformed doorman breathlessly if he had seen a man leaving with his leg in plaster and carrying a Gown Salon box.

‘His leg in plaster, you say?’ The doorman was a veteran from the Great War and a bit hard of hearing. ‘We’ll be seeing plenty of them before too long, and worse an’ all, if you was to ask me.’

Grace tried not to feel impatient. She looked up and down the busy street and then across the road, shading her eyes from the sun, and then felt her heart turn over as she saw Seb walking into a café further down Ranelegh Street.

Thanking the doorman, she ran across the road, dodging the traffic, just managing to catch up with him as he opened the café door.

The moment he heard her calling his name he turned towards her.

‘I was in the sewing room. Susan came in and told me what you’d done. Well, at least she told me what had happened and I knew it must be you and so … oh, Seb …’ Her voice broke and she started to tremble.

‘Come on, let’s go and have a cup of tea, or will that get you into trouble?’

‘No. Mrs James is off today. She’s the manageress and she’s a bit of a tartar. Rosemary is in charge and she won’t mind if I take my dinner hour.’

Five minutes later they were seated at a small table amongst the other shoppers, drinking the tea Seb had had to pour for them both because Grace’s hands had been shaking too much.

He had insisted on ordering her some welsh rarebit as well, saying that she looked as though she needed something to eat.

‘You shouldn’t have done it,’ she told him. ‘I don’t deserve it. What I did was wrong and I should be punished for it.’

‘It was wrong,’ Seb agreed, ‘but you weren’t entirely to blame.’ Privately he felt that most of the blame lay with Grace’s snobbish aunt and uncle and her dreadful cousin. ‘I’d planned to have a word with your manageress and offer to cover the cost of the dress, thinking that you would have handed it over to her before I could get to speak with her.’

‘I would have done if she’d been in,’ Grace admitted. ‘Susan grabbed it off me before I could stop her and said she was going to put it back. I told her she mustn’t but she said if I owned up it would get her the sack as well as me. I couldn’t believe it when she came rushing into the sewing room and said that someone had bought it. It made me feel sick with guilt to think that she’d let someone buy it, knowing what had happened to it, but then she said about the man who had bought it having his leg in plaster and I just knew that it must be you.’ Her eyes were shining with gratitude and relief.

‘You still shouldn’t have done it, though. I don’t deserve so much kindness. I’ll pay you back of course, but …’

‘You will pay me back, Grace,’ Seb agreed, suddenly becoming serious, ‘but not with a few shillings a week that you can’t really spare. A lot of men like me are going to need a lot of young women like you before this war is over. Doing your nurse’s training is far more important than paying me back. This country needs girls like you.’

‘Oh, Seb.’

‘Now I want you to promise me that you won’t go and make a silly martyr of yourself by confessing to something that no one else needs to know about now. And I want you to promise me too that you’ll work hard to become the best nurse you can be.’

‘I promise,’ Grace told him fervently.

‘Good. Now eat your lunch before it goes cold.’

Obediently Grace did as he had told her although she wasn’t really hungry. However, whereas before she had been too miserable and upset to eat, now she was too excited and overjoyed. She gazed at Seb with something close to hero worship. How lucky she was to have met such a wonderful person. She would never forget him. Never. And she would do as he had told her and work as hard as she could at her training.

They parted on the pavement outside the café, turning in opposite directions. Grace was halfway across the road when she changed her mind and turned back, running down the street after Seb. He stopped and turned round when he heard her.

She was running so fast she almost collided with him. He put out his arm to steady her. Grace looked up at him. She was slightly out of breath and her heart was pounding, and not just because she had been running, she knew.

She put her hands on his upper arms and raised herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He was the first man she had kissed, apart from her father and her brother, and she was careful not to look at his mouth.

‘Thank you,’ she told him emotionally. ‘I shall never forget what you’ve done for me. Never.’

Seb looked down into her face. She was so very lovely. He thrust the dress box towards her and told her gruffly, ‘You’d better take this. It isn’t any use to me.’

And then as she took it from him, to Grace’s surprise, he bent his head and kissed her fiercely on the mouth.

The whole world seemed to go still and silent. Grace trembled, and lifted her free hand towards his face, but Seb had already released her and was stepping back from her, and walking away from her.

Grace watched him until he had disappeared into the crowd. Her eyes were smarting and yet she felt happy – elated, in fact – as though she wanted to sing and dance and tell the whole world what a wonderful special person he was. Grace heard the bang of the daily One o’clock Gun from the docks as she hurried back to work, and as she registered its familiar sound she knew that it marked a place in her life that she would never forget, dividing what had been from what was to come.

From now on she was never going to forget how lucky she had been, and how much she owed to Seb’s kindness. Never ever again was she going to make the mistake of doing something she knew to be wrong. And what was more, she was going to be the best nurse she could possibly be, she told herself fervently.

Half-past six and Grace was normally home by now. Jean had been keeping an anxious eye out for her daughter ever since it had turned six o’clock, which she knew was daft because Grace didn’t even finish work until six. She hadn’t said anything as yet to Sam about what Grace had done. He had been so proud about the fact that she was to train as a nurse after his initial anger, and Jean knew how hurt and disappointed he would be. She would have to tell him soon, though. She gave a small sigh as she reached for the iron. Both Sam and Luke were late in for their tea tonight as well, and she had been so on edge that she’d almost been glad of having the washing to iron. She tensed as she heard Grace’s footsteps outside the back door, knowing how upset her eldest daughter would be at having to give up her hopes of training as a nurse, but when the back door opened and Grace came in, far from looking upset she was glowing with happiness and excitement.

‘Mum, you’ll ever guess what’s happened.’

‘You’d better tell me then, hadn’t you, love?’ Jean suggested. ‘And pretty sharpish before your dad gets in because I haven’t said anything to him yet about what’s happened.’ Jean frowned as she saw the dress box Grace was carrying, and her frown deepened as Grace started to explain disjointedly and excitedly all about a certain Seb Atkins, who had saved her from disgrace and despair by buying the frock she had damaged.

The more Grace enthused about her rescuer the more Jean felt inclined to mistrust him. It was typical of Grace that she always thought the best of other people, but Jean knew what Sam would have to say about a young man who bought his daughter an expensive frock – if she were to tell him, of course.

‘Wasn’t that a wonderful thing of him to do, Mum?’ Grace was demanding.

‘I don’t know about wonderful, Grace. In my day a young man certainly didn’t buy a girl a frock, not if she was a decent girl, that is, and he respected her,’ she added warningly.

Grace flushed and gave her a reproachful look. ‘He isn’t that sort at all, Mum,’

‘Well, it’s plain you don’t want to think so, love, but you’ve only met him the once and here he is buying—’

‘He didn’t buy it for me, Mum. He bought it because he wants me to train as a nurse,’ Grace told her. ‘That’s what he said to me, and he made me promise that I would. Oh, and I shall, and I want to be the very best nurse there is, Mum.’ Grace clasped her hands together, the look of shining dedication in her eyes making Jean’s heart miss a small beat at the sight of so much vulnerability.

‘He said that if there is war then men like him will need girls like me, girls who are trained nurses … and then he gave me the dress and … oh, Mum, I can’t believe it. I was so sure that I’d gone and spoiled everything. But now…’

Jean watched her worriedly. What Grace had done was very wrong and yet, as her mother, she couldn’t help but feel relieved that she was not going to be denied her chance to do what she so desperately wanted to do, even if she also knew that Sam would not approve, and would think that Grace should endure her deserved punishment. He had such strong moral values, did her Sam, and she respected him for that, but a mother was still a mother, and now that Grace had let slip that this Seb was about to rejoin his unit and hadn’t made any attempt to suggest they meet up again, she was beginning to feel a bit less worried.

‘Well, let this be a lesson to you, Grace,’ she told her daughter sternly. ‘You’ve been very lucky to have things work out as they have, but think on in future, and don’t go letting yourself be persuaded into doing what you know isn’t right. We’ve brought you up to know better than that and, like I said, your dad would be that disappointed if he knew what you’ve done.’ Jean paused. The last thing she wanted to do was to encourage any of their children to think they should keep secrets from their father but she knew Sam, and if he were to be told the full tale she suspected he would insist on Grace owning up to what she had done, even if it meant she lost her opportunity to do her training.

‘Your dad’s got a lot on his mind at the moment, what with being in the ARP as well as having to do his own work, so there’s no need to give him any more to worry about by telling him any of this. It would only upset him and he’s that proud of you.’

Jean reached for her overall and sprinkled it with water before unrolling it and starting to iron it. The colours were beginning to fade but there was plenty of wear left in it yet.

‘Yes, Mum,’ Grace agreed meekly.

‘Now you’d better take that box upstairs and get it out of the way. We can have a look at the frock later and see if there’s anything that can be done with it.’

Grace gave a small shudder, and looked conscience-stricken. ‘I could never wear it again, Mum, not after what I did.’

‘Maybe you can’t, but some other girl might be glad of the opportunity to wear it,’ Jean told her firmly.

‘The service is to be at eleven o’clock three weeks on Saturday, after the banns have been read, and the wedding breakfast will be at the Splendide Hotel.’ Vi took a sip of her tea, and then dabbed delicately at the corners of her mouth with a snowy white starched napkin. Really, one would have thought that Alan’s mother would have made a bit more of an effort with her appearance. Vi would have been ashamed to go out wearing such a dull-looking tweed skirt, not a Jaegar by the looks of it, and what looked like a hand-knitted twinset. The colours didn’t even match. The skirt was brown and the twinset navy blue. She looked down at her own teal-blue jersey afternoon frock with its lace cuffs, and felt happily superior to Bella’s mother-in-law-to-be.

‘The vicar said he’d never known so many couples come to him wanting to be married just in case it comes to war,’ she informed her. ‘He’s actually had to turn some people away but he said that of course he could make room for us, seeing as my Edwin is a councillor, and of course your own husband as well, Mrs Parker. Now, I’m seeing the printer tomorrow about the invitations and the order of service. We’re having Evans’s to do the catering.’ Vi gave Alan’s mother an arch look as she mentioned the name of Wallasey’s most expensive catering firm. ‘Mr Firth insists. He won’t have anything less than the best, I’m afraid.’ Vi patted the pearls she was wearing complacently.

The two women were sitting in Vi’s smart new front room, and so far Alan’s mother hadn’t spoken a single word.

Well, of course Vi could understand that. After all, she must be feeling that ashamed of herself after the way her son had behaved toward Bella, frightening her like that. But as she’d said to Bella on Sunday morning when she’d taken her up a cup of tea, young men could get carried away with their passionate feelings, especially when they were as in love as Alan obviously was with her.

Naturally too she had tried delicately to find out exactly how far things had gone but Bella had been so terribly upset that she hadn’t pursued the matter. Fortunately she had managed to ascertain that whatever had happened had only happened for the ‘first time’ so that even if the unthinkable were to result, no one could possibly raise their eyebrows at a honeymoon baby arriving a couple of weeks or so early.

‘Bella wants to have her cousin Grace as one of her bridesmaids, of course, and, bless her, she’s said that she’d like to ask Trixie to be the other, just to show there’s no hard feelings. She’s such a thoughtful girl like that. I know already that you’re going to love her as though she were your own daughter. It’s such a special bond, I always think, between a mother and a daughter. Such a shame you only have a son, but then, you’ll have my Bella now.

‘I’m afraid that Edwin is still a teeny bit cross with dear Alan for the way he upset Bella. He’s such a protective father, but like I’ve said to him, we knew what was in the wind and that it was only a matter of time before Alan called to ask formally for Bella’s hand.’

Vi saw the murderous look Alan’s mother was giving her but chose to ignore it. After all, if anyone should be giving murderous looks to anyone it should be her. It was their darling Bella whom they had found in hysterics at the Tennis Club after Charlie had telephoned them and insisted they needed to be there. As she’d told Alan’s mother when they had driven round to see his parents, the minute he had realised what that happened Edwin had been all for forbidding Alan to see Bella again but, like any mother, she had wanted to see common sense prevail.

Of course, as she had also told Alan’s parents, thanks to the quick thinking of the Tennis Club President no real harm had been done and everyone knew that Alan and Bella were now engaged, but in view of the circumstances they naturally felt that the sooner the wedding took place the better.

Vi’s mouth hardened as she remembered how Mrs Parker had tried to suggest they call out a doctor to examine Bella to confirm whether or not Alan had a duty to marry her. She had soon put a stop to that.

All in all she was very pleased with the way things had worked out, especially once she had realised just how close to the Parkers Trixie’s family were.

‘Of course, the young couple are going to need somewhere to live, and with your Alan working for his father I dare say you’ll want him close to you. There’s a detached house up for sale five down from you,’ Vi informed the other woman.

‘Mr Parker doesn’t like rushing into things,’ Alan’s mother told her coldly. ‘He says no good ever comes of it. There’s no reason why Alan shouldn’t stay where he is.’

‘Well, personally I think that a young couple should have their own roof over their heads.’

‘It wouldn’t be their own roof, though, would it, Mrs Firth, not with Alan’s father having to pay for it?’ Alan’s mother put down her tea cup and stood up. ‘I really must go. I’ve got a committee meeting this evening.’

‘Bella will be sorry that she missed you, but what with Alan coming round and insisting that he wanted to take her out to buy her her ring … Of course, it’s only natural that he wants to make it up to her for the way he behaved on Saturday. Bella was shocked at how much he’d had to drink.’

‘Drinks bought for him by your son, I believe,’ Alan’s mother told Vi in an arctic voice.

‘Charlie is just so very generous. Too generous really, sometimes.’

Mrs Parker looked pointedly at her watch.

‘Such a shame you have to go when we haven’t finished discussing all the arrangements yet. I’m taking Bella to choose a wedding gown next week, and then there’s the bridesmaids’ frocks. I’ve telephoned Trixie’s mother to tell her that Bella wants Trixie to be her bridesmaid. It’s a pity she’s such a plain girl. Not a patch on Bella, of course.’

‘Mr Parker and I are very fond of Trixie.’

‘Well, yes, I’m sure you must be, but of course you’ll love Bella – everyone does. She’s going to make such a wonderful mother.’ Vi sighed sentimentally, but her eyes were cold as she watched the anger burn in Alan’s mother’s eyes.

She had known the minute they had driven round there on Saturday night that Mrs Parker was one of those mothers who thought their sons could do no wrong and who was prepared to defend and protect him no matter what. Well, she had soon made sure that Edwin let them know exactly what Alan had been up to with their Bella and how distraught she was. Far too distraught to come into the house. She had told Mrs Parker very bluntly that had her Charlie behaved like Alan then she would have insisted he do the right thing by the poor girl involved – not that Charlie would ever behave so badly.

Even then, knowing the whole situation, Vi suspected that the Parkers would have wriggled out of admitting that Alan had no option other than to marry Bella, if it hadn’t been for the fact that their engagement had already been announced in front of the President of the Tennis Club.

Vi couldn’t believe that Mrs Parker actually thought that that Trixie, with her horsy face and moony expression, would be a better wife for her son than her own Bella. Stupid woman. And mean too, suggesting that Bella move in with them.

The sight of Sam beaming from ear to ear when he came in from work was enough to make Jean feel less guilty about not telling him what had happened. He had such a lot on his mind at the moment that it wouldn’t be fair to add another burden to the ones he was already carrying.

‘You look pleased with yourself,’ she told him. ‘You’re a bit later than I was expecting, though. The others have already had theirs, and I’ve got to go out to my WVS meeting tonight, so you’d better get washed up and sat down at the table.’

‘Sorry, love,’ Sam apologised, rolling up his shirtsleeves over the sink and turning on the tap. ‘Fred Wilson collared me when I was on me way home, He’s our Group Warden.’

Jean nodded as she removed the cottage pie she’d plated up earlier for him from the oven. By the time Sam had washed his hands and was sitting down, Jean had put his dinner in front of him and had the kettle on.

‘Aye, Fred had a bit of good news he wanted to tell me,’ Sam continued. ‘Seems that the Government has decided that it’s going to pay us a bit of summat for being in the ARP, even though it’s only part time. It’s not much, mind,’ he warned, but Jean could see how pleased he was. Luke will be getting it as well, and I reckon it won’t do any harm to carry on as we have been doing and put it to one side for the future. Where are the kids?’

‘Luke’s out at band practice,’ said Jean. ‘Grace has gone to find out what she needs to do to get started with her nursing training, and the twins have gone off to the park with that friend of theirs. They’ll be back at school next week so they might as well enjoy what’s left of their holidays. I had a message earlier saying that they wanted volunteers down at the school to help get the kiddies evacuated, so I’ve said I’ll go and give a hand. Poor little mites, and their mothers as well.’

‘It’s for their own good, Jean. If it does come to war then the Government wants them to be safe.’ He put down his knife and fork and looked at her. ‘I’ve bin thinking meself, about the twins and you.’

‘You’re not the only one. I’ve bin thinking about it too, but, like I’ve already said, Sam, I’m staying put and so are the twins. I’d never have a minute’s peace, worrying about you, if I didn’t, and I’d never have any peace if the twins weren’t here with us.’

‘Well, I can’t say that I wouldn’t prefer to have you here because I would, but the Germans are going to be out to get Liverpool, lass – we all know that, what with the docks and everything – and I’d feel a lot easier in me mind, know that you and the girls are safe.’

‘We’ll be as safe here as anywhere,’ Jean said to him firmly. ‘We’ve got that shelter in the garden, and besides, how can you be expected to help fight a war if you aren’t getting a decent meal to eat and clean clothes to wear? No, Sam, my mind’s made up. We’re staying.’ She paused. ‘I do hope that our Vi doesn’t really mean to send Jack away. I’d have him here rather than let her do that, but of course there’d be a ruckus if I offered.’

They exchanged looks, and then Sam cleared his throat.

‘Aye, poor lad. But he’s their lad, love, and it’s not up to us to interfere.’

‘But, Sam …’

‘I know, love but there’s nothing we can do. You know that.’

Jean straightened her shoulders and poured them each a cup of tea.

‘Do you reckon then that it’s going to be war?’ she asked.

Sam pushed back his chair and stood up, going over to her. Jean stood up as well, her anxiety shadowing her eyes as he put his arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder.

‘Yes, and there’s no point in me pretending that there isn’t,’ he told her gruffly. ‘You’ve got far too much sense to be teken in by summat like that.’

For a few seconds they simply stood there in silence, Sam’s arm around Jean, and her head resting on his shoulder. Sam could feel her tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt. There was a huge lump in his throat. Jean so rarely cried.

‘At least we’ll have our Luke here with us, not like some families who’ve got to watch their lads going off to fight,’ Sam tried to comfort her.

‘I’m worried about him, Sam,’ she responded. ‘Something’s bothering him. Has he said anything to you?’

‘No, not a word. What do you reckon’s up with him then?’

‘I don’t know,’ Jean admitted.