‘Oh, Mr Sayers … I hope you’re looking after my boy for me up there,’ she said out loud, and snuffled into her pillow. She had two brothers in heaven now, both forever young.

Mo popped her head around the door. ‘Are you awake?’

Sarah wished she had locked the door now. She wanted to ignore her friend and pretend to be asleep. She wanted to be left alone, to cry when she felt like it, but Mo was already walking over to the bed. Sarah sat up and quickly dashed her tears away with the flannelette sheet. ‘Yes, I’m awake,’ she said.

‘I’ve brought you down a cuppa,’ Mo said.

‘Thanks.’

‘Oh, look at you. You’ve been bawling your eyes out again and you look knackered. Tell you what, I’ll go and run you a nice bath with some fancy bubble bath Sam bought me. You have a soak, then get yourself dressed and we’ll get you out of the house again. It did you good yesterday … Maybe we could go up the Junction and have a look around Arding and Hobbs. You loved it in there the last time we went.’

Sarah knew that Mo meant well, but the last thing she felt like doing was browsing through posh frocks and make-up. ‘No, thanks, Mo. I really don’t feel up to it.’

‘Well, I ain’t leaving you here in this state. Bath first, then I’ll think of something else. Come on, out of bed and get this tea down you. I’ll be back in a minute.’

Mo went off to the bathroom, and Sarah grudgingly swung her legs out of bed and walked over to the window. She pulled open the curtain, but quickly drew it again. The sun was bright, but her mood was too dark to face it. She walked over to the armchair and flopped into it. Everything felt like such an effort, and she couldn’t be bothered to fight off her lethargy.

Mo came back into the room. ‘Your bath’s running. It smells gorgeous in there, and them bombs make your skin feel ever so soft. Keep an eye on it, don’t let it overflow. I’ll be back down in an hour and will expect to find you dressed and ready to go.’

Before Sarah could protest, Mo was gone. She liked Mo, but she didn’t want to go out. All she wanted to do was hide away for a while and mourn for her boy. She’d slept with his army jacket in her arms, and now walked back to the bed to pick it up. With it draped around her shoulders, she tucked her hands in the pockets, and smiled warmly as she found a half-eaten sticky boiled sweet, covered in fluff. No doubt Tommy had saved it, and even with the fluff he’d still have shoved it in his mouth.