‘Boil it up in a saucepan, that’s all you have to do. With these blinking rations, I doubt you’ve got any sugar, but if you have, sprinkle a bit on, and there you have it, stewed rhubarb. You’ll love it, and so will the boy,’ Mr Sayers said, and handed Sarah the fresh fruit before looking into the pram at Tommy, who greeted the toothless old man with an equally gummy grin. ‘Blimey, he’s getting big.’

‘Yes, he is, and I think it’s time he came off the milk, so I’ll give him a bit of this rhubarb later. Thank you.’

‘Sarah, come and sit down, pet. There’s something I need to tell you.’

She noticed a troubled expression on Mr Sayers’ lined face, and instantly her heart began to pound in anticipation of bad news. She sat on a rickety bench and watched with concern as he slowly lowered himself down beside her. His back must be playing up again, she thought, wishing there was more she could do to help the dear old man. His wife had passed away many years ago, and now Mr Sayers rented a room in a house owned by an elderly couple. The rent was reasonably cheap and was supported by the fruit and vegetables he supplied, and though it was not ideal, he always said he was happy enough, although his landlady was a mean-spirited miser. He’d once told Sarah he was even charged extra for using the shed. On a few occasions, Sarah had helped Mr Sayers carry his tools back to the shed, but she’d never been invited into the house.

Mr Sayers took Sarah’s hand, and sighed a long, deep breath. Though his palms were calloused, she noticed the papery skin covering the back of his hands, and could feel him shaking.

‘What is it, Mr Sayers?’

‘Thing is, Sarah … well, I’m an old man and I’ve had a good innings. I’ve seen five kings and queens come and go, and I’ve lived through two World Wars. But my time’s about up and it won’t be long before I’ll be seeing my Dulcie again.’

Sarah knew Mr Sayers’ wife had been called Dulcie, but she was dead.

‘I don’t understand …’ she muttered, praying it wasn’t what she thought.

‘I ain’t going to mince my words, so I’ll tell you straight … I’m dying, love. The doctor says I’ve got this blinking disease that’s gonna finish me off within a few months.’

At the thought of losing her substitute granddad, Sarah instantly felt tears welling up in her eyes. Mr Sayers was such a caring, sweet man, and as most of her old schoolfriends now shunned her, he was pretty much the only friend she had. He couldn’t be dying – it wasn’t fair!