‘If the Nazis come,’ Pam said, lifting her chin defiantly, ‘I’d eat the berries. I’d rather die than let Jerry get his hands on me.’

‘You sound like our landlady,’ Gillian said. ‘She’s told us she’s got the rat poison ready. It’s in the shed and she’ll take it, if they come.’

Everyone fell silent. The sun went behind a cloud and for the rest of the afternoon, they picked the fruit in subdued near silence. Finally, they laid their bowls – and Pam’s wicker basket – on the ground and admired their handiwork.

‘What in heaven’s name will Cook do with all these?’ Nancy asked. ‘We’ve picked tons!’

Miss Sharp raised a finger. ‘I know. She’s going to bottle them for Christmas.’

Christmas! It was over two months away – a lifetime, and, yet, it would be here in a flash. Where would she be at Christmas, Maggie wondered, and what on earth would have happened by then?

Chapter 26

Ray wheeled the tandem out of the barn and over the cobbles in the yard.

‘Ta dah!’ he said. ‘Your carriage awaits!’

Oh, he wished he hadn’t made so much of it. Maggie looked pale and serious. He should have acted more casual, as though going out on a tandem was nothing out of the ordinary.

Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing slacks that were too big and sagged around the knees. He pretended not to notice as she hitched them up.

‘Gosh, you have done a good job on it,’ she said.

It was true. The tandem looked brand new, with its bright green paintwork and plump black tyres. His fingers were still sore from the hours he’d spent rubbing away at the rust with wire wool and then giving it a lick of paint.

He had remembered what his dad had taught him as a boy, when they used to spend Sundays in the shed, tinkering with an old sit-up-and-beg bicycle. His old man had been able to make or repair anything.

Ray shrugged. ‘I haven’t minded it, to tell the truth. Made a change from putting figures in ledgers.’

For those hours, as he’d worked, he’d forgotten about the war and morale and being responsible.

It had irked him, when he’d had that silly tiff with Maggie and she hadn’t wanted anything to do with the tandem. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but he’d wanted her to be as excited about the bicycle as him. At least, finally – and probably because she had no other choice – she’d agreed to give it a go. And now here they were, about to ride it for the first time.

‘Come on,’ he said encouragingly, ‘let’s find a patch of lawn. Grass, for a softer landing!’