‘That wouldn’t happen because I’d be careful,’ he snapped, shrugging her hand from his arm and now she was really afraid. He was the first person she thought of every morning and the last one she thought of at night and the prospect of living without him was unbearable.

‘Please … don’t be angry with me.’ She flung her arms about his neck and for a moment he held himself stiffly. But then dropping his cigarette butt onto the floor he ground it out on the bare floorboards with the heel of his shiny new shoe and took her into his arms again, and this time when his hand once more found her breast she didn’t stop him.

Chapter Thirteen

‘Well you certainly look happier than when you went out,’ Holly commented when Ivy got in late that evening. The sparkle was back in her eyes and she couldn’t seem to stop smiling. Holly had been sewing a button onto the dress of her uniform but she laid it aside to go and put some milk on the stove to warm for their cocoa.

‘Oh, don’t bother doing me a hot drink tonight,’ Ivy told her. ‘It’s been a long day so I think I’ll get an early night, if you don’t mind. G‘night, Holly.’ And with that she went tripping into her bedroom leaving Holly to stare after her with a concerned frown on her face. She so wanted Ivy to be happy but there was something about Jeremy that didn’t feel right, although as yet she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. Feeling restless she decided to write to her mother, maybe writing about her concerns would help her make sense of them, and considering what her mother had been through with her father, she might have some useful advice. So settling down at the small table she began.

Dear Mother,

I hope this letter finds you and Grandfather well and keeping good health. The weather here is marvellous, it’s so nice to see the sun but it does make me miss the lovely walks you and I used to take in the wide open spaces on glorious Sunday afternoons. Of course there are parks here but it isn’t the same as being surrounded by fields as we are back at home.

Ivy and I are well, although I must admit that I have a niggling concern about the young man she is seeing. He’s a journalist from a very well-to-do family by all accounts, but the strange thing is he never seems to have any money, nor does Ivy and I’m growing a little concerned that she might be giving her wages to him. I’m probably worrying over nothing but as you know, Ivy is a very kind, generous person and she is so besotted with him. I would hate to think that she was being exploited. But that’s enough of my concerns …

She went on to tell her mother all about her work at the hospital and in the shop and when she’d finished, she popped it in an envelope and placed it on the mantelpiece ready to be posted the next morning. She always felt better after writing to her mother, it somehow seemed to bring her closer and, smiling again, she gave a wide yawn and went to bed.